Beyond the Limits
by Xappho
Summary: The post-Voldemort world of the Famous Harry Potter was exactly the way Hermione Granger had envisioned it. The problem with this happy ending that Hermione got to see first hand? It wasn't hers. Nowhere close.
1. Chapter 1

The post-Voldemort world of the Famous Harry Potter was exactly the way Hermione Granger had envisioned it. It had played out like a movie right down to that last romance scene, where he'd swept his princess off her feet, they'd gotten married, and lived happily ever after.

Hermione wouldn't lie, she'd always wondered what a 'Happily Ever After' consisted of... and she found out. Harry and Ginny had gotten married after Harry had been deemed the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'... for the second time, and had moved on to play Seeker for Puddlemere United. Between Harry and Ginny, they were the perfect example of a 'Happy Celebrity Couple', always in the media, making huge contributions of unmatchable proportions to charities as a reminder of their good nature, and never subject to tabloid affairs.

The problem with this happy ending that Hermione got to see first hand? It wasn't hers. Nowhere close. Generally, it was what she'd been expecting. Maybe to become a talented healer or something of the like, marry Ron, who would play Quidditch with Harry, and have a bunch of kids. Happily ever after. Turned out that was a scene Hermione Granger would never see.

As it would happen, the end of the war signaled the end of life as she knew it, and several very apparent truths came to light in her mind. A. In the last few years of school at Hogwarts, she'd come to the conclusion that there were only two certainties: Voldemort would win, and kill them... Or they'd defeat Voldemort, and die in the process. B. She'd avoided being a normal teenager, in exchange for perfect marks that meant absolutely nothing in the end, and got her nowhere. C. The end of the war _hadn't_ made her happy.

In fact, all the end of the war did was make her realize that there was no light at the end of the tunnel for her. No bigger, better, adventure for her to delight in. There was no more 'Golden Trio' to save the day, as there was nothing to be saved from. She was no longer the genius that Harry looked to for advice or help on the homework. There was no competition over perfect marks for her to take part in. No world wide 'Head Girl' badge to look forward to. She'd mistakenly lived out all the effort she had back in Hogwarts, out of fear of an unavoidable death. Hell, back then, she hadn't even considered death to be a bad idea. Expelled would have been a worse fate.

That was until she'd seen Cedric die in her fourth year. That had been the beginning of the killing, and the moment she'd convinced herself and accepted that the Golden Trio would follow suit... and therefore, should give everything to the glory of their names and cause, and be inspiration to all the rebels of tyranny and evil to follow.

So maybe she'd lied to herself. She didn't _actually _imagine a post-voldemort world at all, and all she'd found when it _did _surface was that she had no idea what the hell to do with herself. Life was no longer fulfilling. She was no longer needed. She accepted it.

It hadn't been long before her chances of a life with Ronald Weasley flew out the window. Her pessimistic and downcast disposition had been too much for Ron to handle. Enough to anger the red head into violent tempers, feeling his former girlfriend was nothing more than a shell of herself, no longer worth the effort, impossible to reverse. Not to mention the conclusion that she was an attention seeking know-it-all who just wasn't happy if she wasn't the brains behind the rest of the operation. So he'd left. Picked up and moved to Romania with his brother, as Dragons were clearly more enthusiastic than his 7 year best friend and suspected future wife.

Hermione flicked her wand to the right, causing a line of plates and glassware to rise from a particularly dirty table, floating through the air towards a small window connecting the wait-station and kitchen of the restaurant. The rest of the garbage swept itself neatly into a trashcan she held in her opposite hand, as a rag appeared to finish the job seconds later. Walking back into the station, she leaned tiredly against the counter, rubbing her temples softly with a dejected sigh that she would see many more of before the end of the day. Glancing down towards her watch, she caught sight of the time just as her replacement rounded the corner, jumping out of the way to avoid ramming into her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione... I'm starting to think you should really get more sleep at night. Maybe you'd make it a few feet farther away from the door?" An older witch responded. Of course, she had a point, and the comment was made more out of concern Hermione expected, given the furrowed brows the squatty little witch sported, but overachieving was a trait long devoid from the brunettes vocabulary, and even a few extra steps seemed just that to her.

On any normal day, she wouldn't have been as tired as she was at that moment, but it was unfortunately a Wednesday, and all Wednesdays meant the same thing.

"Another intervention night?" The witch asked, judging from Hermione's worn face, and her own recollection of which day of the week they'd come across. She had been working with Hermione long enough to know that every Tuesday night was like 'Charity Day' for Harry and Ginny Potter. It was the day that they ceremoniously dragged Hermione out to some undisclosed restaurant to sit her down for a 'nice meal' that involved trying to bring her back around to some sense. Luckily for Hermione, the witch before her had also worked with her long enough to understand how she felt.

A simple nod was the only response she needed to give the witch before she was supplied with a sigh and a shake of the head. "I swear, it's as if every time I think you might be catching onto something, they come along with their empty words and ruin it again."

Hermione smiled softly, shrugging half-heartedly in the process. "We all know how celebrities are... they're so used to everyone taking everything that they say, that they neglect to realize the part where the people that actual know them can tell the difference." The true problem. They took her out, but spoke to her as if she was a piece of wood. Or a brick. Some inanimate object that wasn't going to listen either way, so all they had to do was say the lines, and spend some money so they could say they tried.

Retrieving the coinage from the front of a black apron that wrapped her waist, she glanced down at an open palm with yet another sigh.

.

Within a half hour of closing herself out of the restaurant, she was on her way across Diagon Alley in record time, hugging a light walking coat to her body. It was the only one she had, and she'd made a sacrifice to get it, but it made her look nice, which was the main concern. At least when it came to work, Hermione tried her best to look professional, perhaps to dim some of the concern people always shot at her. In fact, she really did try to hide her mask of indifference all together. The problem was only that once people had spent more than a week around her, the truth would easily begin to show itself.

Nonetheless, she'd made the decision that just because she wasn't happy, didn't mean she couldn't try to bring some happiness to others.

35 minutes after leaving the restaurant, she was walking into the Orphanage. After a 6 am to 10 am shift at her first job, she'd simply grabbed herself a croissant on her way out, and headed out the door, which had become the norm. Hermione liked to think that she could keep her brooding to a select time of day and quantity of time by filling the rest of her day with work. 4 hours at the restaurant, 4 at the orphange, and the last 4 out filing through the Temp agencies. Anything to keep herself busy.

When it came to her voluntary work at the Orphanage, she supposed it was more a desperate attempt to remind herself that it could be worse for her. After all, there she got to see a jam-packed house full of young children whose parents had been killed by Voldemort. They couldn't support themselves, and they weren't old enough for Hogwart's, which left them resigned to the run down old house. Apparently it was too far under the radar of 'big charities' for Harry and Ginny to notice, judging by the conditions.

Hermione sighed softly, pausing by the main door before entering, something that she always did.

_They're less fortunate than you. You're all orphans... but you got your parents longer than they did. You got a fighting chance, and it's your own fault if you don't use it. _She told herself, opening the door. Her own miniature pep talk had become the norm as well.

Within an instant of moving herself beyond the threshold, Hermione was swarmed by any small body that wasn't preoccupied with something else, and even by some of those who had been in the middle of some task or another. The children saw her as a big sister, and for their own good she presumed, they had no idea what her life was really like. Sure, they could see the emptiness behind her eyes at times, but they assumed it was the same as theirs: Lack of parents. Beyond that, they believed she magically had all the money in the world, and came to see them and work with them for fun and to bring them joy. Never did they suspect that she worked numerous jobs, and could barely afford anything, let alone her apartment. Of course, spending every extra sickle and galleon, and sometimes more, on bringing them small gifts and attempting to fix the place, probably lent them to believe she had more than she did.

She wouldn't fight them. She'd simply let them believe it was true. Allow them to believe in building oneself up from the ashes.

" 'Mione, 'Mione!" A particularly small little girl cried, running to jump straight into the female's arms. Sadly, Hermione had expected this, and been prepared to catch her the moment she'd seen the flash of blonde cutting through the crowd of children. It was always the same. Adelicia was the runt of the litter, and constantly being picked on by the other children. When it came to favorites, the curly haired child was unmistakably Hermione's.

"Addy… what's wrong?" She asked, pulling the child back just far enough to see the tear-stained face that was sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

On cue, a tiny finger moved to point to one of the other children, who immediately ran in the other direction. "Anise pulled my hair! She says we should just cut it alllll off!" By the end, she was on the verge of relapse, dropping her forehead to the older girl's shoulder.

It was all problematic. Given the circumstances, Adelicia was amazingly well-spoken for a four year old, especially after spending a year in the orphanage when her Foster parents fell through. The children as a whole were more willing to blame their situations on each other than a dark lord who had already fallen, taking their families with them, and so, knowing that they only way out was by adoption, Adelicia's special charms made her a prime target for older children. Hermione hadn't been the first to take notice of the girl, and the children hadn't missed a single one who had. Immediately they knew that if they wanted a fair chance, they'd need to keep the desirable runt out of the way.

After a year, it had gotten to the point where the four year old wouldn't come away from her corner unless Hermione walked into the room, when she'd immediately come running. She'd make her way the second the children saw Hermione walk by the window, when she'd make her way out. Unfortunately for the child, even the attempt to come for the volunteer, despite all the children knowing Hermione was only a volunteer, and had no desire to adopt one of them, meant a struggle. She was the only real thing that made Hermione wish she could spend more time with them, or that she had the money to support a child, as she knew that the little girl would serve her share of hazing for stealing even the slightest bit of attention after Hermione left, and despite Hermione's warnings to the other children, there was no way to stop it.

Perhaps Hermione compared herself to the child… She'd been just like her. Even in Hogwarts, she'd been shunned in the beginning for stealing the attention of their professors. She'd made the other students look like common fools, and if hadn't been for Harry befriending her, she'd have dealt her entire 7 years in the same style. Especially now, she knew exactly how the child felt. Showing herself as a prodigy got her beaten down, while hiding it simply made her disappear into the background, a lamb consumed by the lions.

For the next four hours, the child was safe from the wrath of the others, all of whom were acting like a happy family on Hermione's behalf. She'd watched them play with puppets and board games as she made several calls from a list of possible foster parents, looking to at least attempt to move some of the children out of the overpopulated orphanage, which was worked by only volunteers, minus the woman who owned the home and the orphanage itself. She'd been fairly wealthy at one point, but her charity without income had brought her down to just afloat, and she was busy working at the hospital to make sure it stayed that way. She could no longer afford to pay the work, and so she depended on her punctual helpers.

Two came as quick as she'd expected, with no problems from the children, which she'd also expected. They were always angels when Hermione was present, though she'd heard horror stories from some of the other volunteers. She'd already seen the next in line walk in, gaining generally the same greeting that she had, and with a kiss to Adelicia's head on the way out, and a promise that she'd be there the next day at the same time, she snuck out the back entrance to run off to the temp agency.

Draco paced the length of his office slowly, gazing out the window every now and then at the high-rise view of the wizarding world that he was granted, over an early afternoon sky.

After the war, Draco's father had been placed in Azkaban, and Draco temporarily disowned everything it meant to be a Malfoy. He loved his mother, but he needed to get away from everything. As he clearly couldn't get away from himself, it seemed he'd have to be the one to disappear for a time. He'd moved out to a small flat for several months to think about what he wanted to do with himself, and thinking about the years prior. He'd never supported Voldemort. He'd never supported the Death Eaters. Yet, they'd branded his pale skin with their black ink, and made him appear as one of them. What choice did he have? They'd told him on multiple occasions that he had two choices: Serve the dark lord, or die. It seemed to him that death was the less desirable of the choices he was given, and the way he saw it, he only needed to act as if he were a loyal servant. It'd become a bit too hard when they'd asked him to kill the Headmaster, naturally. Harsh words and hexes were nothing, entertainment really. Child's play. Death was a good deal different.

Draco hated the Golden Trio. The perfect little prudes who never did anything wrong. That was honest to goodness, no lie, truth. Not an act in the least, so the first few years were simple. He loathed Voldemort, the Death Eaters, the entire organization. When it came down to it, Loathing was a far greater emotion than hatred.

By the end, he'd decided he didn't want to be on either team. He considered it as simply helping himself by opposing the Dark Lord, and he was relieved when the war ended. Potter and his groupies got their glory, and then moved off with it and their fame. He'd expected it. He knew Potter was only living up to expectation. He didn't _really _give a damn about the rest of the people in the world. He just enjoyed the way they treated him when they thought he did. Had to be why he kept giving out money to big charities. Sodding idiot.

It had all been expected. All but the odd sense of guilt Draco felt in the first few months away. He hadn't even worried about returning to school… simply escaped it all to think. About everything. Perhaps it was regret that had him wonder whether or not he could have prevented any of it by acting sooner… But he highly doubted he could have. Not a single teenager. Probably just would have gotten him killed if he'd tried to defy Voldemort so close to his followers. Not even being best friends with Saint Potter would have saved him from that. Thank God. If that had been the answer to it all, he would have done it the same way. In the end, he decided there hadn't been anything he could have done to make Voldemort go away sooner, but that he wasn't blameless either. This was not to say he regretted giving Gryffindors hell… only that he regretted allowing his band of followers to delve right into the Death Eater realm. He'd at least had the power to keep their evils to child's play, and that he considered to be his fall from good graces.

That was where it started. He wanted nothing to do with his Father. He was ecstatic the day he learned he'd been thrown in Azkaban. He wanted to see all of the Death Eater's suffer in Azkaban. Not only that, he wanted them souless in Azkaban. So the answers came to him. Rid the world of petty criminals and Death Eaters, and maybe, just maybe, the guilt of putting some into the world would go away, and he might consider himself worthy of acting a bloody lunatic like Potter. Not that he would want to. Just that he could if he wanted to.

It only took two years, and by the end of five, Draco Malfoy had surpassed his father's wealth and fame without so much as touching a cent of it. He'd proven easily that he didn't need his family, and only then did he return to his Mother. Not only that, but he'd gained himself nearly full financial control of the Ministry of Magic's Aurors, a Private Investigation firm, and the number one ranked law firm in the London wizarding world. Indeed, he'd made all his wealth off of collecting, depositing, and torturing all those who ever made him have to question his moral standing.

Naturally, the Wizarding world looked at him as a great 'changed man' story. The man who went from control by Death Eater's, to making the world a better place by doing his part to rid it of them. Imagine what they'd think if they realized his purposes had nothing to do with making the world a better place, and everything to do with revenge. He was still a Slytherin. There was no doubt about that.

Unfortunately, by this point, he was starting to wonder. All but a handful of former Death Eater's had been locked away, the crime rate had been cut by more than half, and for all intensive purposes, Draco _had _made the world better, and gotten revenge all at once. Yet he still didn't quite feel he had the _right _to be happy, and that bothered the hell out of him.

"You wished to see me, Sir?" His assistant asked the moment she'd gotten through his door, looking more than flustered, and rightfully so.

Draco gazed down towards his watch. "Five minutes ago. I believe I did." He replied coldly, crossing his arms before him. Amazingly, he was a fairly easy boss, so long as his employees were punctual, which in his mind, meant fifteen minutes early… if he was going to be an hour early and an hour late coming and going.

"I'm… sorry, Sir… traffic…" She stopped herself soon enough, realizing that excuses were the last thing her boss wished to hear. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Leah left a message." He said bluntly, nodding his head towards the phone. "Calling out, again." One of the two paralegals employed directly to Malfoy himself, Leah acted more as if her position were a given due to her appearance, that in all honesty, Draco didn't have the slightest attraction to in the first place. To anyone else, she was likely a bombshell, all legs with a thin frame and delicate face… He didn't care. He saw her as an employee, and a useless one at that. She was quite possibly the worst employee he could have ever hired, and to be honest, he had no idea how she even had her degree, given her apparent lack of brain under blonde bimbo appearance.

"You'd like me to nab one from another department for the day?" The first assistant asked.

"No, Daphne, I'd like you to call the bloody agency and find me a replacement, then I'd like you to return her phone call, and inform her that she can start searching for another job."

"Of course… I'll get right on that." She responded, seeming surprised for reasons Draco didn't understand as she turned and left the room. He stood where he was, glancing back through the glass doors to her desk, where she'd already gotten on the phone. When it came to work ethic, it appeared he'd gotten a nearly perfect assistant, and her polar opposite. Daphne was a slightly more modest red head, with no sort of romantic obsession whatsoever with her boss. She did what he asked, when he asked, and was only late by a few minutes once in a blue moon. Not that he'd praise her, as he knew from experience that praise generally made employees less careful.

Five minutes later, he watched as she put down the phone, walking back to the office.

"I talked to the agency, they don't have anyone with the experience. All they have right now is a few temps, and they say none of them are fitting for the job…" She explained.

Again, Draco glanced at his watch. He really should have called Daphne in earlier to cover for Leah, but he knew her to be busy. With a sigh, he walked around his desk, picking up his suit jacket and throwing it gingerly onto his body.

"I'll go down and see how bleak the situation looks. Even a temp might work. All they need is half a bloody brain to do Leah's job better than she could. I highly doubt they're _that _lacking in intelligence." He told her, nodding her back to her desk as he exited the building.

As unfortunate as it was, Draco knew that he _had _to replace the second girl. There was entirely too much paperwork for Daphne to handle on her own, and there was no way in hell he was going to give more than the two extra hours a day that he already gave. He'd done 5 to 6 for the first two years, and he had no intention of returning to that. This, was his motivation for leaving work to physically walk to the agency at the end of the block. He always seemed to have more pull in person, and he suspected today would be no different.

++++Hermione sat as patiently as possible in a chair off to the side of the counter, arms crossed and foot tapping in frustration on the tiled floor beneath her. This had become a common occurrence. It seemed that lately, jobs were being filled, and work through the agency was becoming more and more difficult. They were skill specific, and discriminated as much as they felt, taking into account every aspect of one's private life. Hermione was the 'fallen member' of the Golden Trio to them, and they naturally suspected that it hadn't been her own choosing. For that, they found her less desirable, along with her decision to waste four hours a day volunteering in a run down Orphanage, and the rest of her time as a waitress.

Nonetheless, they always got to her eventually, and she could at least see they were working on _something_. For the most part. Her frustration mounted however when every single one of the agencies employees suddenly stopped what they were doing to look up and gape. It took only one glance towards the door for Hermione to see what it was that was making them lose control of their jaws, however.

In all honesty, Hermione had not one drop of admiration for the male that had entered the room. As far as she was concerned, Draco Malfoy had been a rich, spoiled brat his entire life, and nothing had changed. Everyone hailed him as the 'defender of good', carrying on Harry's reign and finishing off the Death Eater's, but as far as Hermione was concerned, he had to have a selfish motive. Maybe to keep them from telling every dirty little secret he had.

They followed him into the room as if he were a God, ready to grant his every request, and Hermione easily overheard the conversation. He was looking for a paralegal, and had apparently already been told that they had no suitable candidates. He told them he didn't give a damn if they were a paralegal, just wanted someone with common sense… They told him there were no suitable candidates.

That was enough to make Hermione roll her eyes. She didn't care what they thought about her, to deny her genius was enough to piss her off, whether she wanted Malfoy's dumb job or not. It appeared that she wasn't the only one to notice this fact, as a pair of rather calculating metallic eyes had already begun to sweep the room's occupants, stopping directly on her for a brief moment before turning back to the agents in apparent irritation.

Draco wasn't finding any of this funny. An agency telling them they didn't even have anyone to fit the description of 'common sense'? He glanced the room quickly, eyes falling over a familiar, albeit unwelcome, sight in the corner of the room beside the desks. He glanced back to the agents long enough to make his displeasure apparent, before turning to approach Hermione.

"They tell me you have no one with even half a brain listed as a trait. Should I suspect you're running a business in comparison to your own resume?" He fumed in annoyance, seeming to understand the problem. Obviously, Hermione was their manager. It only made sense. Damn girl would think anyone that couldn't recite every page of 'Hogwarts: A History' was a complete moron. He however, didn't need anyone _that _precise.

Hermione didn't rise from her seat, but didn't look any less annoyed than he himself with his approach.

"I assure you they would _probably _know best as to what traits their clients possess, and my _resume_ has _nothing _to do with it." She spat back at him, sending an equally irate glare in the direction of the agents.

It appeared Draco was giving the Gryffindor entirely too much credit, but he couldn't tell, even despite her rather obvious statement. Perhaps it was simply his inability to see his school mark competitor as a client rather than the boss of the dim agents behind him, so he continued.

"You seem to find this funny, Granger, which I assure _you_ it is not. I have a bloody law firm to run, and have been down a paralegal for the past seven and a half hours. That's not good for _my _business, and not giving me a replacement when my conditions are so slim is not good for _yours_." He hissed in retaliation, not in the mood to have this argument in the least.

Finally, the girl stood, bringing herself face to face with her childhood rival. She'd changed quite a bit, which was apparent to Draco, but he couldn't entire place _what _had changed in his current state, taking into account instead that she still stood a good six inches shorter than himself, making any attempt at intimidation futile.

The agents behind him seemed more confused than anything else, and hadn't made any attempt to step in yet, rather allowing him to attack the female instead of themselves, watching as she rose to meet the verbal advances.

"I don't find it _funny_ at all, Malfoy!" She raged, throwing her arms to her sides in emphasis. "Since you've walked through the damn door, all progress on _me _having work for the rest of the day has _halted_, not to mention my being insulted at least twice by these idiots thickness, which, for the record-" She paused, tilting her body to glance around Draco to the agents, "_Clearly_ surpasses mine, but thank you for undermining me nonetheless." Returning to Draco, "And, of course, insulted _yet again_, by your assumption that _I _have to be the one in charge of the mob of morons. At the very least, allow me to _guarantee_, that this hellhole would be run 200% better if I _were_ the head of affairs." And with that, she cursed lightly to herself, throwing her hands up in surrender as she stormed from the office and out the front door without another glanced after the female with shock and confusion etched across his face, attempting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. As much as he disliked Hermione, he had to say he was disliking the finished product of the puzzle a good deal more, and turned back slowly to the agents.

"She was one of your _clients_?" He asked quietly, though the apparent anger was building in his eyes behind the question and tone.

"Mr. Malfoy, we never said she wasn't…" One of the agents responded quickly.

"You never said she was."

"We didn't think it was relevant, Sir."

Draco couldn't handle it. He didn't like the girl, but he knew damn well what she was. She was the reason he was ranked number two every year at Hogwarts. He hated to admit it, but she was his only intellectual equal, and the implications they were now making were coming across as insulting to _himself_.

"I asked you for someone capable. That's all. I didn't ask for a degree. I didn't ask for experience. I asked for capable. This could have been settled without me coming down here." He hissed.

The agents looked at each other in confusion which only made him angrier. "Sir, we didn't feel she fit the qualifications… She's a waitress for god's sake."

"I don't give a bloody damn what she is!" He bellowed in their direction, causing them to cower lightly and take a step back. "That witch is the brightest witch of her age, she's the reason you all haven't been hacked apart by death eaters. Without her, Potter would be nothing, and you try to tell me that you don't think she has the capability to do paperwork? She has the capability to do _my _job if she felt like it!" He shook his head angrily, storming out in much the same way Hermione had moments before.

Hermione stopped on the steps of the building long enough to catch her breath, groaning softly. _Didn't wanna work for Malfoy anyway. Slimy little ferret. Of all the nerve._

Of course, it had also become clear to Hermione that she'd have to find a different second job _somewhere_, especially now that she'd decided she wanted nothing to do with the agency. Maybe pick up some extra hours at the restaurant, though there was no way the pay could cover her. She'd be kicked out of her apartment by the end of the month at this rate.

Finally, she took off down the road, arms folded over her stomach against the cold, laughing softly to herself. Admittedly, while initially offensive, Malfoy's mistake did bump her self-esteem up the slightest bit. Probably more so if she'd actually heard his defense of her, but it didn't make her hate him any less. It was with this thought that she stopped, glancing over her shoulder as she heard her name called behind her.

_Well. At least someone knows. I still don't want to work for the prat, though. _She mused as she watched the blonde close distance on her.

"Never thought I'd say it, however… I apologize, for actually paying you a compliment in assuming you were too smart to be caught under the tyrannical reign of those spineless bastards." He said pointedly, crossing his arms and glancing down at her. The words emitted from him, but otherwise, he was indifferent to what he'd said, warranting a slow and unforgiving nod from the female.

"Now that I've been made aware of my mistake, and theirs, I think you know I'm forced to ask." He added bluntly, making no attempt of friendly banter or anything of the like, which rather amused Hermione, considering their history.

"Forced to ask your biggest rival to come and save your ass by doing your paperwork? Is that it? Or did you ask for common sense rather than intellect and experience so that you could parade around a pretty new assistant? Perhaps _that's _why you decided to come down to the office after apparently calling?"

He was clearly annoyed with her assumption, jaw clenching as if to keep from berating her. "I was looking at you as nothing more than a potential employee. If I'd known I could have made a request without settling for simple brain activity, I would have done so. I came to the office because I need the position filled, and frankly, I don't give a damn who fills it, so long as it's not me and my other paralegal, who don't need to have to deal with any more than we already do." The speech was made in a fairly calm tone, apparently trying his hardest to keep his temper confined.

There was no doubt that she needed a damn job… and she wasn't daft, she had to give him some credit for the cleverly stated compliment he paid her. Like her or not, he seemed to at least give her the proper acknowledgement when it came to intellectual abilities.

"What would the hours be?" She questioned carefully. She'd be more suspicious, if she weren't at least aware that he did indeed head a legitimate law firm. Then again, he was probably a dictator when it came to his employees. Hell, the pay would probably be less than her job at the restaurant under that selfish bastard.

"Five days a week, six hours a day. Fifteen paid vacation days, and full benefits." He responded, entirely business.

"You mention paid vacation and benefits. Let me guess. Sweatshop conditions and minimum wage?" It was a sarcastic response, but she rather expected him to say yes.

He frowned slightly, uncrossing his arms to place his hands in the pockets of his slacks, taking a more casual and less business-like stance.

" Forty-seven galleons an hour."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock that she knew she was unable to hide successfully. "Forty-seven galleons _an hour_? That's… That's Seventy Thousand a year…" she stumbled, realizing that she made three an hour if she was _lucky_ at the restaurant. He no doubt noticed this as well, and it seemed that it was peaking his attention.

Draco watched her expression curiously, unsure of what the hell was happening. First, he was surprised to find that she was a temp, and equally surprised to hear that she was a waitress from the agents… But when they'd said waitress, he at least imagined a fancy, well paying restaurant. Now he was starting to realize the full extent of the situation. The brightest witch of their age, and his intellectual equal, was dirt poor with a shit job. Oddly, he wasn't sure he liked it.

"I see your math's still quick." He pointed out, ignoring her questioning of the number itself.

"I'm sure you mean that's the pay for an _experienced_ paralegal… Hell, I thought that was what an _attorney_ made." She explained, still flustered.

"It is what an experienced paralegal earns…" He responded, becoming more and more frustrated with the unique situation placed in front of him. Wasn't Potter a sodding millionaire? What the hell happened to his path to success? "However, I fail to see why that matters. I think we both know damn well that you're a hell of a lot more capable even without the degree than they are with the degree, the experience, and my firm, that generally pays higher than the others."

His compliments were throwing her off guard, and forcing her doubts it seemed. He still didn't like the girl. At all. He hated her and her friends, but he knew how to keep business and personal life separate. He'd built an empire from nothing, and he knew the key to doing so: The best. He had the best lawyers, the best paralegals… and a good number of the second and third best. Unfortunately, there wasn't a high quantity with 'the best', but as long as he had them, his business was in good shape. Hermione Granger was, in his opinion, the best of the best. He could even deal with seeing her every damn day under the realization that his work would go smoother and more effectively if he had her as well. Hell, he'd pay her more if necessary. He didn't give a damn.

"What… five hours would they be?" She questioned hesitantly.

"The paralegal you'd be replacing worked from 8 am to 2 pm."

Her face seemed to drop instantly for reasons he was unaware of.

"Problem?"

"I… I work other jobs. One from 6 to 10 and one from 10 to 2." She explained, and his mind started to work. The damn sacrifices that were coming to his head were slightly ridiculous to him.

"Which one's more important? First or second? Surely you don't need three jobs with a 70,000 a year salary, but I'll work around one if it'll get me a replacement."

"… The second is…" she replied, flinching slightly. She obviously realized the imposition she was placing on him by choosing her 10-2 job. Whatever the hell it was, it seemed important to her, so he wouldn't argue.

"Work from 8-10 and 2-5. If you could get to the agency by 2:15, you obviously don't work far enough from here to be a problem. We'll work around it."

It was clear to him that he wasn't only shocking himself. She was confused, and possibly threatened by how hard he was pressing, but he had to believe she was smart to understand his rationale. _She _was good for business.

After a long pause, she gave a nod of hesitant admission to his requests, waiting for him to give her any other details she'd need.

"Good. You'll start in the morning." He explained, pulling a business card from his breast pocket to hand to her. "The address is on the card. Once you're within the offices, it's not hard to find. Be there by 8." Pulling his opposite hand from his slacks, he uncovered a hand of galleons, knocking them around to find that there were 21 and some sickles, shrugging and grabbing her hand, dropping them into it. "You can use that for clothes. I'm not going to expect you to use your own money, but I do expect you to look like you belong in a law firm. I think that's fair, considering it's the only expectation I've given you. Agreed?"

She was busy blinking down at her palm full of coins, nodding slowly. Clearly, his newest assistant was in shock.

"Are you feeling alright? Do I need to accompany you to Madame Mulkin's as well? Or can you handle that?" There came the frustration. It was only a matter of time. After all, he was offering her what anyone would want. In all honesty, he'd originally planned on hiring a dimwit for the position for 30,000. It was because it was Hermione that he was offering her a full pay. Now she was acting like she'd been hit by a damn train.

Luckily, she shook herself out of it a few moments later, allowing a sigh of relief to pass from his lips.

"I can handle it just fine." She hissed slightly, causing him to smirk.

"Don't get me wrong, I still don't like you, Granger. But I do realize that you're an asset. You'll get treated the same way as any other employee during work hours, unless you pull out any of the snide remarks. As for off duty… Don't get yourself killed, as that would be no benefit to me. Beyond that, I could care less."

These simple words seemed to put her at ease and he was able to make his way back to his office, glancing over his shoulder just long enough to see her walk directly to Madame Mulkin's. At least he knew she'd do what he asked. She was still too good of a person to spend his money on anything else, though he was still trying to figure out what was actually different about her, except the shit jobs and lack of money. He'd assumed that's how mud bloods were anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione awoke the next morning long before her alarm clock had the chance to sound. It had been a restless enough night as it was, this was just the point where she decided to stop trying and gave into staring at the boring white walls across from her and the wandering thoughts in her mind.

One glance towards the clock told her she had another three hours before she had to report to Malfoy's office. That was enough to warrant a groan. There were too many potential problems. To make matters worse, the greater majority of these problems had decided to strike her the moment she stepped foot into Madame Mulkin's Robe shop the day before, which had caused her to make quite the scene. It wasn't that she'd wanted to… only that upon being asked what exactly she was looking for, it occurred to her that she had no actual clue.

Sure. The answer should have been simple. New robes for work. But it had struck Hermione Granger that she hadn't the slightest idea how she wanted to be viewed in this new job. Ever since the end of the war… she'd fallen completely off the radar. Except for becoming known as the sad best friend. The charity case to those who knew anything about her existence, though that was rare, as Draco Malfoy himself was proof of. Most people probably thought she had vanished to a different country. She had absolutely no image to uphold. Not the ridiculously intelligent third party of the Golden Trio… not the pretty bimbo of the group. Nothing. So when asked what she was looking for, what did she say?

It had occurred to her in retrospect that Draco himself had obviously matured a great deal since Hogwarts. Back then, he wore his family's wealth like a mask, flaunting the top of the line brooms in Quidditch, all the best of everything. Hermione's wasn't a fool though. She was also perfectly aware that he followed right behind her in marks. Thinking back to yesterday, it was apparent to her that he didn't blatantly flaunt either in his appearance or clothes… because his image was already set. When he was younger, he was still trying to make people know his family was rich. Now they knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had surpassed them in every aspect, and it showed without any attempt on his part. That bothered the living hell out of Hermione Granger.

Enter problem number one.

When did she ever imagine she'd be thinking about how she wanted to appear to people? No. That wasn't what she was thinking at all, was it? Maybe in a tiny way she was imaging how her new coworkers were going to perceive her… but more than anything… her ego had taken a complete beating the day before in front of her childhood rival. And despite backhanded compliments left and right, that he was nice enough to disguise as insult for the sake of her pride (( Still trying to decide whether that pissed her off more or less )), she was teetering on an all time low because of it. So now, standing in the middle of Madame Mulkin's Robe shop like a stone sculpture for an undisclosed but embarrassing amount of time….

She wasn't actually thinking about how her new coworkers were going to view her. She was thinking about how Draco Bloody Malfoy was going to view her. Because at some point on the way between that damn street where they'd talked, and her robe shop… she'd obviously at least gained the tiniest glimmer of at least respect for the slimy little rodent.

Not to mention some odd thought in the very back of her head about steely grey eyes that gave her goosebumps. She'd simply blame that on being a girl that hadn't been around men in forever, and the fact that Malfoy unfortunately wasn't an adolescent male going through puberty anymore. Whatever. She was allowed to think he had pretty eyes. Didn't mean she had to like him. He was an ass. Didn't change anything. Except for a few things.

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to fix this problem.

In the end she'd decided on one moderate and conservative outfit, since she had no clue what she was aiming for, and decided that she could come back once she'd felt the place out. Then it was a quick run to the restaurant to cover shifts and prepare for hell.

As hard as he tried, Draco couldn't manage to get any work done in his extra hour the next morning. The will to focus didn't seem to be coming to him, and instead, he found himself scouting around for info on what the hell one Hermione Granger had been up to since Voldemorte's defeat. Plenty on the rest of the Golden Trio… nada on it's Heroine, save a few background photos where it appeared that she had been dragged by Potter and girl Potter, a sight which caused him to shake his head.

Oh how the mighty had fallen.

Fine by him. The rest of the world could forget about Hermione Granger. Their loss was his gain, and he planned to take complete and utter advantage of it.

The more he'd thought about it, the more he'd realized the full potential of the situation. Not only could she make his life that much easier, his business that much more lucrative… he'd be able to branch out farther, and maybe… if his assumptions about these photos were true, piss off Saint Potter in the process. He didn't like Hermione, but she was tolerable in comparison, and if it came down to getting under the other nitwits skin… he'd befriend her in a heartbeat.

Looked like she needed it anyway. At least she was working for whatever the hell it was she had. Unlike the fame mongers that were throwing their money all over the place. Disgusting.

Draco froze at the familiar buzzing sound of the elevator, glancing down to see 7:40 scrolled across the clock and nearly smiling as the doors opened, permitting the familiar brunette.

He'd have to remember to pat himself on the back later and tell himself how good of an idea hiring her had been. Since he could always count on someone that beat him at everything in school to show up early. Perfect.

A simple clearing of the throat was all he offered to guide her in the right direction, summoning her into the office itself and surveying as she marched in like someone sacrificing themselves to darkness. If she didn't drop the odd expression, he might start to doubt whether he'd started doing good in the world… but he simply shook the thought, glancing over the fairly modest attire she'd chosen. It was professional, and he couldn't ask for much more than that.

"Feel free to take a seat. I'm just going to give you some initial paperwork to fill out and introduce you to the company a bit." He offered, extending a hand which brought with it a chair.

"I'm sure it's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Not at all. Mostly just for pay purposes. I've set the firm up to automatically deposit funds into all employees Gringott's accounts, so vault numbers are obviously needed. Beyond that, as I already know your prior history, contact information will be the only thing I'll need out of you."

Hermione tilted her head slightly, taken aback. "Already know my prior history? We haven't seen each other in years… I'd hardly say you know my history…"

"Perhaps you should just be impressed that you have enough in your first 18 years to warrant being hired with full wages. My only point was that I don't find it necessary to seek out references and educational standards for you. Then again, I have a good bit of faith in my own decisions. You're not interviewing right now, after all."

His eyes furrowed slightly as he watched the woman react, nodding slightly and using one hand to fill out papers he had begun to slide across the desk, as if to keep her attention still half open to him. At the same time, he had no intention to tell her that he wasn't going to have her fill that portion out because he wanted no knowledge or involvement of/in her personal life and previous shit jobs. The unsettling feeling that came with knowing about one or two was enough for him, and he was set on thinking they'd go away once she got some money. Which had led to his next big decision of the morning.

"I did afterall hire you yesterday." He informed, placing an envelope on her small stack of forms. "Consider that a signing bonus for helping me out. As much as it pains me to say it, I'm extremely grateful."

Wide eyes had resurfaced ever so slightly, but Hermione was quick to respond. "Is the outfit I picked out THAT awful?"

_What the-?_

"Of course not. I just thought you might need-" _Money… Shit. _".. More than one? You're a woman… I don't mean to stereotype, but we usually try to give a small allowance for clothing as it is, and it seems the women in this company are always the ones that find that allowance too low."

_What the hell were you thinking? _To say he was beating himself on the inside would be an understatement. The fact that Hermione Granger living with nothing bothered him was bothersome enough. The fact that he wanted to act on it… a little more tedious. But he had no intention of telling her that, or insulting her with it. Any care in her well being only made him dislike her more, and the entire battle he was currently having… was immediately stalled by something on her face. There was no doubt in his mind that she knew what he meant to say, But her expression wasn't disgust or insult. More like embarrassed acceptance.

_So that's what he thinks of me. _She thought, glancing down at the envelope in her hands. If she had half the ounce of pride she used to, she'd throw it back in his face, tell him she didn't need his worthless money or job and walk out. But she did. To make it worse, she couldn't bring herself to be angry. The Draco Malfoy she remembered would have waived it in her face, let her know he was doing everything out of malicious pity. This Draco tried to save her pride for whatever laughable reason. As if she had any now.

"Well… you know. When all of your current employees make so much, they can spend their money on pretty lavish robes. Maybe it makes some of your newer ones feel a little underdressed." She responded, trying to keep her spirit in it. If this was the charade he wanted to play, she'd work with it for now.

Apparently she didn't do a very good job, as he only nodded slowly and stood, clearing his throat again. "Come on. You can finish these later. I'll have Daphne leave them on your desk, which is this one right outside the doors to the right. For now, there's a café next door to the building where we can get some coffee, I can tell you about the company, and we can let this be even more awkward." He said, glancing upwards in painful thought. "Or we could always just throw some things out on the table and possibly make it a little less awkward. I guess that's really up to you."

She didn't see where she had much of an option, as he'd already made it halfway out the door, so instead she hurried after him, catching his side just as they neared the elevator.

"Why did ask me to work here?" She heaved softly, not used to keeping up with such a long stride since before Ron left. "We've never been able to stand each other. Do you really think that's ignorable?"

He stepped inside, pressing ground to begin the delayed descent before turning over his shoulder to look at her. "So we've chosen this way. Alright. I run a business Hermione. I'm not thick enough to overlook the possibility of having one of my intellectual equals working for that company. When it comes to the job that I specifically hired you for, it involves a lot of research, organization, and book smarts. The convenience of you is knowing you have all of those qualities without needing to interview you. I have no intention of ignoring our past. No, we have never liked each other… but out of the three of you, I've at least been able to respect you, for all the same reasons as I would hire you. And while I may not want to date you, or be a part of your life outside of work, you are my coworker… and I'm not as dense as you think I am."

By the time he finished speaking, the bell chimed, and he stepped through the doors as if on cue, walking forward into the atrium. _He didn't have to be so logical… _She thought, stepping out after him. Hermione waited a moment before coming back to his side, allowing the slight color to fade from her cheeks. Something about her and romance. Didn't need to be mentioned, even by Draco bloody Malfoy apparently.

"So what, you want me to believe that you've actually become some great almighty person? The kind and generous boss? I'm not supposed to take what you're doing as sarcastic pity that's helping you out?" She asked.

"I'd never say great and almighty. I can be strict, as in the case of your predecessor… But otherwise, if you're questioning my managing style, yes. Generous is probably proper. I'd never in a hundred years have you thinking it's out of _kindess_. Happy people work well. You're no different. You're one of my employees now, and I'm treating you the same as all the others. My employees want for nothing, so there's nothing else on their minds to distract them from their jobs."

"Well that certainly sounds more like the Malfoy I remember. Scheming."

"Scheming? A successful company is scheming?"

"Isn't it?"

"Strategy."

"Perhaps." She shrugged, looking up at the café sign. "If you were trying to make me feel better about accepting things from you, I guess it worked."

"I hadn't really seen you trying to turn anything down yet, but if I got you to accept I'm treating you like all of my employees, then good."

Hermione nodded, biting her lip as they snaked through the café to a table in a fairly secluded corner in the back of the restaurant. "Right…" She responded softly as they sat. "And you take all of your employees out on company hours for breakfast?"

To her surprise, he chuckled, shaking his head. "No. Only old rivals who will now be answering my calls. There's no reason why we can't attempt to be friends."

"Didn't you just finish telling me you didn't want anything to do with me outside of work?"

"Technically, It's still work." He smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms after giving some unknown gesture to a man behind a long counter on the opposite wall.

"You're my boss… you sign my paychecks. But I still hate you."

He shrugged, pulling a portfolio from his jacket and placing it on the table. "That's fine, I guess. You can't say I didn't try. This is an introduction to the company. Has all the numbers you could possibly need, fire exits, magical wards, maps, codes to different offices that I assume you'll keep confidential. It also tells you where the different file rooms are, and how files are listed should you ever need to find anything manually, but a simple Accio usually works easiest. The building we work in is the actual firm, but we also head the Aurors, so their offices are listed. You can get into any of them, but you need to wear your passes which are enclosed." He explained with a nod to the portfolio as she opened it and began cycling.

"We're currently in the process of working on some touchy cases at the moment. Daphne and yourself do a lot of collection from witness testimony, which you'll find there's a good ton. Unfortunately, half of it is complete rubbish and has to be thrown out before I waste time on it, so that I can build a case out of the useful pieces. That's where we're at now. We haven't been handed anything conclusive yet from the aurors, so we haven't been able to form a hard case and receive any warrants."

Hermione gave a nod of understanding, eyeing her watch to see that it was already 9:40, but making no sign of recognition.

"You have your other job to get to right? You showed up early this morning, I appreciate it. Why don't you go ahead and go, and I'll see you at 2 so you can start shuffling through witness reports. Tom has some rolls and coffee waiting for us, so just grab some on your way out."

"Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly, receiving a nod in reply.

"You'll come to find that I only strongly dislike you. I'm not out to get you."

Hermione didn't question him, keeping herself composed until she was a good way down the street before confusion spread over her face. _This is not going to be good._


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for bearing with me guys! I know the update time between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 was something horrendous, but I promise I won't go throwing any crazy 6 month waits between the rest on you. ^^ Seeeee... This wasn't even a full 24 hours! (( As I try to make up lost time. ))  
**

It should have been one of the hardest things for Hermione to admit to herself, given her status as a member of the Golden Trio and all… but considering what life would have been like if Voldemort _had _won, was an almost weekly occurrence. Sure. It doesn't sound that bad.

You obviously don't understand her exact line of thought.

Hermione didn't think about it in a 'What we could have lost' sort of way, but rather in wondering whether perhaps the rest of the world may have spent their days in as miserable a state as her if Voldemort had been victorious. In the current scheme of things, she often realized that his downfall had been a matter of time. The world celebrated, decided it didn't need a heroine, and before she knew it, she had been left behind.

The outcome was the present. A world where all of those content of acting like fabricated mutants were suddenly happier than real people. Or maybe it had always been that way? Maybe it really did all revolve around money. If Harry and Ginny were the only display, deciding otherwise would be impossible.

Maybe that's what bothered Hermione so much. When Ron left her, it was because he told her she didn't exist anymore. She was nothing more than a shell. As if that weren't painful enough, the Potter's blatant 'charity days' were obviously in response. Not out of worry, but simply because they felt obligated.

She'd been working for Draco Malfoy for a solid week, and already her thoughts were beginning to turn more poisonous than they had been. Sure, Draco had made one offer of semi-friendship, but beyond that, he'd shown no sign of wanting anything to do with her. He certainly wasn't one of her best friends… and yet, _he_, a childhood rival, had been able to look at her and actually _see. _He didn't see her as some task he was obligated to complete once every Tuesday so people wouldn't think of him as abandoning his best friend, but merely as a person, whom he treated like any other he came in contact with.

As if that weren't enough to sway her thoughts, his unintentionally helping her out of debt was certainly an asset. He'd done more for her that first day he told her to go buy clothes than her so-called friends had ever done…

_He's not any different. He does what he needs to manipulate the people around him into giving him what he needs. You're just a puppet on a string now, Hermione. _

She told herself, shaking her head and glancing back down to the witness testimonies she was currently cycling through.

_Maybe I don't mind being his puppet for now.._

A simple glance up and she was able to catch sight of him working at his own desk through the open door, biting her lip softly.

It was her most recent inner battle, and one that managed to keep her up until all hours of the night. That selfish prat so consistently did things that could be misinterpreted as good that she had to constantly remind herself of the ever-looming motive. How could she judge? Didn't everyone else have selfish motives as well? Didn't she when she wished her misery on everyone else? She simply wanted to be remembered and have meaning in the world… wasn't what he wanted his own business? Especially if for all intensive purposes he was doing good to get it?

_No. It's my bloody business too. Because I hate the git. _She sighed. It was too much for her. She'd spent her life hating the false-god she now worked for and the wanna-be-god she'd helped vanquish. The more he did to make her respect him… The easier he made it for her eyes to wander in his damn direction… and the simpler he made it for the female part of her brain to kick into overdrive, the more she hated him.

She felt Daphne's gaze on her from across the walking space and immediately dropped her head back to her work, swallowing softly. Merlin only knew where Draco had found Daphne, but she was a piece of work in and of herself.

"**So you're Hermione. I suppose it makes sense now, it's an uncommon name after all." **

"**What do you mean?" Hermione responded, somewhat thrown off by the other woman's blunt nature, unsure of whether to be insulted or assume it was simply her way.**

**She shrugged, approaching the desk with a stack of portfolio's. "Normally interviewing is done by a panel, which Draco oversees, takes into consideration and hires from. A few people on the hiring board were a bit… thrown off when Draco said they wouldn't be needed. I trust him of course. He knows what's best for his own company, and now seeing you, it makes a great deal more sense."**

**Hermione blushed softly, beginning to formulate a reply only to find it wasn't expected. **

"**Your job is fairly simple. A great deal secretarial, which your introductory package should help with… However, I'll warn you here and now that you are about to become one of two people that knows more about Draco's life than possibly himself at times. You're expected to use full discretion in the matter, as we keep charge of his schedule, are permitted to enter his home's wards, and get the most pleasant task of dealing with Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy on an almost daily basis." **

**Daphne was clearly all business at the moment, so Hermione only nodded and listened, receiving an immediate continuation.**

"**Specific rules. NEVER, and I do mean never, transfer calls from Narcissa to Draco. He hates being bothered by her at work. She'll no doubt come seeking your help as it is, so allow me to go ahead and explain that matchmaking has become one of her favorite past times, as Lucius was kind enough to place a rather nasty blood spell on his will concerning the state of Malfoy Manor's ownership and a birthday Draco has coming up in a year or so. As you may imagine, it's her only concern, where as Draco couldn't care less and has no time or worry for it in his day. Beyond that, we're currently working on witness testimonies, I've split the never ending stream in half… We simply need to weed through them for useful testimony that we can pass on to Draco. The rest get filed."**

_**Did she really just skip over all of that as if it were nothing? **_**She wondered, still lost on everything involving Narcissa Malfoy. **

"**What exactly do I do if Narcissa approaches me?"**

"**If she approaches you, you should probably just help her." Daphne laughed, showing her first sign of emotion. Perhaps she decided Hermione absorbed the speech. "He wants nothing to do with his mother's concerns, so he's made it clear that he doesn't want anything interfering with his work. Making sure that happens is our job. When it comes to what she's trying to do… I personally think it would be good for him. I understand what she's trying to do, even if she's doing it for totally selfish reasons." **

"**Selfish? I'd imagine it's one of those old 'if you're not married you can't have what's yours' rules? I heard they used to be really popular." **

**Daphne nodded. "I believe that's it. I'm sure there's probably some other sick and demented stipulation as it was Lucius Malfoy who placed it on the will in an act of revenge, but Narcissa's only concern in the matter is not losing her home. Draco doesn't particularly care about the manor. He only recently moved back there." **

_**So he left home… Still doesn't prove anything. Narcissa wanting to protect something that's been her's and her sons their whole lives doesn't seem nearly as selfish as the motives he's bound to have. **_

"**I think that home is what you make of it… Malfoy Manor is all that woman has left, and whether he wants to realize it or not, it's really all he has left of his family beyond his mother. Keeping that should mean something to him!"**

"**Hermione… Draco isn't really all that tied to his family right now. I mean, he's put half of them in Azkaban himself."**

"**More so then. He's obviously got something he's trying to prove. Whether that's purging or whatever else, he **_**should **_**take back the manor. Letting Lucius have that over him would be absurd!"**

**It was becoming clear that Daphne was starting to think of her as a crazy person, but all that Hermione was gaining from this by the moment was an opportunity. Merlin knew **_**she **_**didn't want to have to speak to Narcissa… and even in the washed up state she'd reached, she never found interest in other women's men. So there was her answer. Two birds, one stone, and she could continue to hate Draco Malfoy, while taking his money on a clear conscious for all the good she'd done him.**

Unfortunately for Hermione, Narcissa hadn't come knocking yet, and it didn't seem like she'd made any advances on her son at home either, as he'd been staying late at the office, hard at work. Now that she glanced at the clock, it became apparent that Daphne's focus had only shifted due to their workday being up, but Hermione merely waved her off and continued on her current testimony until the red head cleared out of the office.

It was bad enough that she'd made the decision that Draco needed to belong to someone else at the beginning of the week… and now had five days to think it all over. To make matters worse, the case they'd begun on her second day was the biggest he'd have yet.

New information had come out that Peter Pettigrew was still alive, and naturally, when you aid in the Dark Lord's return… you become the prime target of everyone, but most especially the new star Attorney that wants you immediately thrown into Azkaban.

Of course, Hermione wanted Peter Pettigrew in prison just as badly as Draco. However, the testimonies she was reading were incredibly in depth, and very detailed…

More than once, Hermione had come across one of these from family members of death eaters who detailed the things taking place around them, including things done to Voldemort's 'right hands own son'. More than once Hermione had needed to put down what she was working on and rethink her view of the male. Maybe she could understand why he'd move away… but she still told herself she hated him. Now not even for just his scheming and manipulating and the bullying she'd always received, but also because she didn't understand why he never said no.

_Maybe working for him was a bad idea. _She groaned, throwing the current testimony and propping her head in her hand. If she didn't watch out, she was going to be kicking herself for letting her heart be broken by someone she couldn't even say she liked.

One solid but graceful move and she was out of her chair and around the desk, out of view of him from the door and flattening down her grey pencil skirt.

_Here you are trying not to like him, or heaven forbid let him think that… and you're just going to march in there. _She criticized, glancing down a bit self consciously. _As if it isn't bad enough that I _look _like I'm asking for it. _

Draco hadn't gotten much sleep since the Pettigrew information came out, and since then, had stayed late at the office every night. On the bright side, as great as Daphne was at her job, it was remarkable how much faster Hermione worked. It was a good indication of why she always got higher marks than him. He was convinced that she could reread the information 4 times in the time it took him to read it twice.

The soft sound of a chair rolling out and the sound of heels moving around one of the desks caught his attention momentarily. He could only assume it had been Hermione, as she was now missing, but a moment later, her small frame pulled itself through the door questioningly.

"Mind if I come in?"

He nodded, watching her as she walked. He'd been so wrapped up in his work that he hadn't paid much attention to her this week, only now realizing that she'd actually pulled herself together since her first days. She'd traded in the loose conservative attire for a fitted pencil skirt and sweater with heels, dropping her hair to fall around her shoulders. In trying to place what was different, she still wasn't the girl he remembered from school… but, she'd cleaned up well.

"I'm surprised you're still here. You could have been out of here a while ago." He commented, nodding to her attire. "You look nice."

Hermione stifled a blush, dropping herself into the chair beside his desk. "I only had a few testimonies left in this group, so I thought I'd finish them before I left."

"It's nice to know the work ethic is still there. I had my doubts at first."

"I wouldn't get so ahead of yourself. I'm not nearly the way I was in school. I just figured you were paying me enough that you deserve the most done for your galleon."

"Well, Thank you regardless."

She squirmed slightly, glancing back at him. "Look, I know this isn't going to be something you want to talk about, but Daphne's made it pretty clear that we're like your personal little black books. I was wondering what was going on with your mother and the Manor?"

"You obviously haven't changed that much. What is there to know? I have less than a year to get married or the Manor gets lost in translation according to the will. My mother ties up the floo with blind date invitations I have no interest in."

"… But it's your home… aren't you the least bit interested in saving it?"

"I'm not that sentimental. It's a material possession. I'm hardly about to go get married just to keep the bloody thing."

Draco didn't understand what she cared about it. So what if his Mother was attached to the damn Manor. He could afford ten of them. Anywhere he chose. What did that one have that any other wouldn't, other than a name on a gate?

"You know half of us fought to save our homes, you miraculously still have one and you won't even consider the notion of going out on a date with some girl you might actually like for the opportunity to save yours? You'd let your Father get that satisfaction over you? Of keeping your birthright? Bloody hell, Malfoy. A date isn't going to kill you!" She seethed.

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms and watched her small tantrum, finally starting to realize what had been missing about her. This girl didn't care about anything anymore. When he'd encountered her before, she'd been tired of dealing with people and being put down, but she had no effort to life beyond that. At least now there was a spark of something. Sadly, it seemed she needed to get it from arguing with him about things that weren't any of her sodding business.

"You know, Hermione, I apologize. I didn't realize that a giant stone building where you and your stupid friends were tortured for hours on end meant so much to you."

The statement stopped her, the recoil was immediate and noticeable, and for a moment he thought she might hex him. He certainly hoped she would. The more annoyance spilled on her face the more clarity he was getting. Potter and Weasley had always annoyed the hell out of him, but the more he thought back on it, the less he could find any real resentment for Hermione except her involvement with the other two and her constantly besting him. No. The fire behind Hermione, her quick responses, her intellect… It had been _attractive _to him. But then, there was that question of blood and his father.

"You know, _Draco, _I more or less assumed that it would mean something to _you _for that purpose. So maybe, you should just suck it up, and go out on a single simple little date so that you can relive that every night before you go to bed."

And with that she was gone, storming out the doors.

_If only you knew. I'd prefer to stop._


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione had officially gone 7 years since the end of the war feeling as if nothing was left in the world. While everyone else went to therapy to put their past behind them so they wouldn't have nightmares… Hermione wished it would all come back in her sleep. The purpose in life. Being part of something. People to talk to…

He held his own well, but she had caught one thing on Draco's face when he mentioned their torture. Regret. It would have been indistinguishable if she didn't have enough of her own, but unfortunately, she did, and she could read it like a book. Whatever motive he had, he had been trying to work her up yesterday, and the moment she realized it, she made it her duty to find out why. The first step, was to give him what he wanted. Even the idea of Draco Malfoy feeling remorse for anything he had done in the past made Hermione sick to her stomach, but only because she couldn't fathom a world where she had no reason to hate him. She felt pulled to him as it was, but if that boundary disappeared…

What bothered her the most about the situation was that in 7 years of searching for anything to give her life some vague semblance of meaning… It was chance meeting with Draco of all people that seemed to do just that. She couldn't complain about the work she was doing, it was the closest to the world she missed. Now he was inciting curiosity, anger, confusion… all feelings that had been missing from her life.

If for no other reason, that was reason enough to repay him with some hell of her own, hopefully saving his home, and when he proved to be the ferret she remembered, he would be with someone else, and she couldn't care less. It was a perfect plan.

"**I'm not sure where she is. She never called in…"**

**Draco paused, turning to stare at the red head. Hermione beat her into work every morning, so there was only one cause for this, and he knew exactly what it was. He'd pushed her buttons too far. He sighed, grabbing his coat.**

"**I'll be back."**

It took no time to make it to Hermione's apartment building, which was randomly on the edge of Diagon Alley, but a great deal more time knocking on the door to get a response. After what seemed like forever, the door opened, and Hermione came to lean against the door frame, successfully startling Draco.

_She obviously didn't even consider coming in… _He thought, taking in her appearance. A pair of sleep shorts, a plain tank top and a messy pony tail, mixed together with a large plastic muggle-slurpy cup of cereal which she was carelessly eating at with a plastic spoon. There was something so simple to it, and how little she seemed to care about him standing there that he had the sudden urge to grab her and swing her inside… Thoughts that he quickly put away as he stared back into narrowed eyes.

"Alright, look. I overstepped my boundaries with what I said to you. It wasn't professional at all. I'm -"

"Go on that date yet?" She interrupted, continuing to spoon at her cereal.

"What? You're… _That's _what this is about?"

Hermione nodded.

"You must be mental!" He scoffed. "You decided not to show up to work because I told you I don't intend to date?!"

Another nod.

_What the hell is she about? _

"I don't know exactly who you think you are, but I hope you realize I'm not going to suddenly do something because _you _tell me to!"

"If you expect me to come back into work, I think you will. I don't want to deal with your mother, or you in a year when you start feeling like shit because you went and lost your home. End of story. It's simple. Just take someone out. _Anyone. _Just make an attempt."

She could see the wheels turning in his head as he thought about what she said, and for the first time, she regret making the ultimatum. Hermione watched the metallic of his eyes study her and forgot one important fact to her plan. It all rested on him being a scumbag. What if he turned out otherwise? The hadn't climbed back up yet, but if she managed to, the next time she fell would be a hundred times worse.

"On one condition."

"I don't know if you get conditions. But if it seems reasonable then-"

"You go."

Her heart stopped in her chest. "Wait, what?"

"I understand you think I might like this person, but in the instance that I don't, I don't want to be stuck with them. So you're coming along. Blaise can be your date."

_Son of a bitch. _The fact that she had misinterpreted his statement just validated all of her worst fears.

"I don't know if that's going to happen. I don't think I can stand you for that long. Still hate you after all."

"Clearly. Why else would you be pulling this shit?"

_Because I don't want to fall in love with you._

"Honestly? I hate overachieving and I feel like I might have packed 8 days of work into 7 days. I thought I'd let it catch up."

To her surprise, he smirked, crossing his arms and making her breath catch in her throat. Morning light hitting his platinum hair just right, the height… those eyes… She was going to kill him.

"Unfortunately, that's not how this is going to happen. We apparently have to find me a date, which could take all day. You'll just have come by the Manor when we finish that grueling task and we can catch up on the testimonies."

"I see a few problems with that. _You _need to find yourself a date for starters, secondly… _we _can catch up?"

"I'm offering to help you with it, and as this is your stipulation for coming back to work, you're going to help."

_Help me find my date and then we can go have a work date! How bloody exciting. _

"Fine. I'll pick you a girl. Don't expect anything fancy. Regardless of the fact that I would never date you, I'm still a woman, and my basic self confidence issues state that she has to be beneath me. Can't promise you much."

"Well thanks. I have all the confidence now in my not needing to deal with this woman for long." Draco responded, trying not to grimace at her speaking lowly of herself, or react to her comment about dating him.

The more Hermione talked, the more confused she made him. He was speaking to his intellectual equal, which was impossible to find, and if not for that, he couldn't figure he'd have three words to say to her. He'd rather just skip the girl finding and take her instead, but that was an obvious impossibility in her mind. Sure, he'd tried to tell himself he wanted nothing to do with her, and to an extent he still wished he didn't… but he could come to terms with the fact that this was the only woman in the world he ever wanted to talk to. He'd had 'girlfriends' if that was what people wanted to call them. All the sex a man could want, but no relationship… Hermione was the only probable option he saw for someone he could get along with in a relationship, if not for the blatant flaring hatred she held for him.

She'd obviously agreed to his plans while he was thinking, gesturing for him to come inside so that she could go change her clothes. Before he knew it, she'd run up a set of steps in the back of the living room, and he was left standing in the most bleak room he'd ever seen. Scarce on furniture, almost no décor, plain walls… The idea of Hermione living here was almost beyond him.

_Maybe it's Potter and Weasley. Maybe they're why she won't give me the time of day. _He thought, glancing around. He'd complimented her, given her a job, given her money, worked with her schedule… hell… He even agreed to go out on a date so her damn morals could stay sound. Even if it hadn't been his original intention, hadn't he done right by her so far?

_You also told her you only did because she was your employee. _But didn't he? Or was it all because it was Hermione Granger?

_That's it, Hermione. _She thought, pulling on a pretty olive sundress that had been hanging in her closet for years. _This insanity has to stop. You're his employee. That's all he sees you as. He had every opportunity to ask you out back there, even if that's not what you were intending… _

She walked around to the mirror, investigating to make sure everything was in line and exhaling slowly.

_You could never be with Malfoy anyway. Just because he's acting different… that doesn't make a difference. It doesn't change all the things he did to you back then._

She groaned, throwing herself on the bed. _What the hell am I thinking? _

Arguments could be made about all the wrong that he had done, but without Malfoy there constantly picking on her, Harry and Ron never would have shown any loyalty in defending her. The sad part was that now, she began to realize it was always and still was Malfoy giving her attention. Any attention. At least that was constant. Maybe she just needed to prod at him more so that he would continue to act like the worthless git she needed in her life, since she couldn't justify the attraction she was feeling.

When she returned downstairs, she came to find him lounging lazily on the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, immediately tailspinning in thought again.

_Apparently I get to burn my couch now too. _

"Ready to go? Pick out the fakest, must aggravating girl we can find?"

"I thought you were for this relationship working out…"

"I'm for _a _relationship working out. If all the first one does is annoy the living hell out of you, I think that would be a win-win situation."

As it turned out, finding Draco a date was the easiest task imaginable. Nearly every café they walked into, every woman stared at him in want, regardless of his standing next to Hermione, who half hoped to be a deterrent. Unfortunately, the stalker alarms rang in Hermione's head on far too many of them, and that wasn't something she was prepared to deal with as his employee.

By the time they entered the bookstore, Draco happened upon his old Housemate, Pansy Parkinson, much to Hermione's horror… and that was who he settled on.

He returned to Hermione's side after Pansy concluded their conversation and left the store, obviously expecting some sort of praise. Hermione barely sat down the book she had picked up.

"You picked _her?_" She questioned accusingly, trying not to look in the direction the supermodelesque black haired girl had just exited.

"What? We hooked up in school… Might as well try dating her. She's the most tolerable woman I know."

"That was too much information, and a little insulting." Hermione scowled, smacking him with the book.

He glanced back in her direction, shaking his head. "I certainly hope you're not calling yourself tolerable as you abuse me with books. Besides, we've established dating law."

"You're talking about the one where I wouldn't touch you with a five foot broom, right?"

"Apparently."

"Well that's true. But either way, you're the one who wanted to be friends, so maybe you should at least pretend you find me tolerable. Even if I do hate you. It's just the way I'm built. We both know there's never going to come a time where I don't hate you."

"So I have to tolerate your hate, and have enough to hold this friendship together? You know, before you stormed in my office, I'd decided I could say I liked you on the friend scale. All this though. You've put yourself right back in the dislike box. Mild, but you're there." He told her, holding the door for her as they walked out onto the mostly deserted street.

Hermione looked up at him as she felt him offer her an arm, confusion plastering its way across her countenance.

"What? I thought we just covered this."

"I thought we said we wanted nothing to do with each other's lives…" She questioned pensively.

His arm extended more solidly to her, not taking no for an answer. "We had. But maybe we have too much prior history to pretend we don't know each other. Your sudden interest in my personal life doesn't help either. You broke the treaty, not me. It's not a crime for you to befriend me. Your other little friends don't even have to know."

The moment her gaze dropped, completely unguarded, the realization hit him. Hermione Granger had been abandoned. That was the reason he hadn't gotten any threatening messages yet. They didn't care what she did anymore.

He reached out, grabbing one of her hands and pulling her towards him without warning, ignoring the slightest resistance. "They're fucking morons if they didn't see what they had in front of them." What was left of her struggling melted and for a few brief moments she didn't fight him. Before he knew it, she'd slipped out of his grasp and wrapped her arms around one of his as he'd originally intended.

"Why are you really doing all of this?" She asked softly, her gaze still firmly fixed on the ground.

_Because… I fell in love with you at Hogwarts… _He thought to himself, finally admitting the brutal truth to himself. He'd always assumed there was romantic involvement between one of those dolts and Hermione, and that just fueled the fire farther. They had nothing without her, and they acted as if _she _were nothing.

"All of what?"

"All of it. The death eaters… me… everything."

He sighed. The chances of him telling her the truth, slim to none. Especially about his feelings towards her.. But maybe. He wanted her as a friend even if she obviously didn't want him for anything else, maybe she could at least understand him a little bit better if she realized his side of their story. Enough to at least pacify some hatred.

"Let's go back to the Manor. We can grab something to eat and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. If we're going to be friends, we should be honest with each other, and I'd like us to be friends."

A nod was her only response, but that and the way she was attached to his arm was good enough for him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks so much for the favorites and watches everyone! I'm glad this is getting such good reception so far. ^^ Reviews = 3 . Hopefully this will answer some questions and... stuff... It's 3:30 in the morning. I can't expected to be clever while adding author sidenotes!**

Hermione hadn't so much as thought about Malfoy Manor since she'd been tortured there. The war was like a long fleeting memory of a time that didn't stand out as 'happiness' exactly to her, but necessity. Meaning. She could remember happiness with her friends back in her second and third year, but everything else hit her like an epic adventure

To her surprise, entering the Manor's halls didn't bring any of the pain back to her. They were challenges she'd been through with her best friends, and now they were no longer a part of her life, it was as if the things that happened to her here had disappeared with them. None of it had existed at all.

She knew Draco was searching her for some sign of emotion as they entered, and she knew he wouldn't find it as he led them to a separate wing of the large house. It was immediately apparent that a lavishly decorated sitting room was their destination.

"You're procrastinating.." She said softly as her eyes scanned the room. It was surprisingly inviting. It did not, however, distract her from his lack of speech since they'd apparated here from Diagon Alley.

"I'll make a deal with you."

She shook her head. "You said you'd answer my question if I came here."

"And I will. But you have to answer one for me, too."

A sigh escaped from her involuntarily. It didn't seem like saying no would be of any use to her, and saying yes couldn't harm her, so what was the point? She only cared about understanding what was in his actions for him. "Fine. But I'm getting really sick of your damn conditions."

That obviously couldn't have mattered less to him, as he just shrugged and took a few steps towards her. She moved away from him instinctively, and found herself falling directly onto a large couch arranged in the center of the room in front of a fire.

_Note to self: Another display of manipulation. Slimy git._

"Answer my question first. Why do you hate me _now_?" He asked, dropping onto the couch next to her casually.

"What's that supposed to mean? I've always hated you…"

"I understand that. I know why you hated me in school. I know why you hated me during the war. What reason do you have to hate me now?"

Hermione was stumped, frowning as she considered his question. "The reasons are the same, Malfoy. You're my enemy. You always have been. I think you've done enough to warrant that in the past."

A smug nod was his only response.

"And what about Harry and Ron?"

"What about them?"

"You love them. They're you're friends, right? You've been through hell and back, defeated the Dark Lord. They've always been there for you…"

_They left me. _Her expression contorted painfully. Could she even call them her friends anymore? After the things Ron said to her before he left, she could hardly even consider that without laughing. Or Harry and Ginny? They didn't even talk _to _her when they took her out anymore…

"How do you feel towards them _now_?"

How did she? It certainly wasn't friendship. She couldn't even fathom up any loyalty left in her body for them after they'd left her behind.

"I don't.." came the quiet reply. "… I try not to. I guess I feel… angry…"

His body shifted slightly, leaning towards her and catching her attention. By the time she looked up, steely silver was boring back against her gaze meaningfully.

"So, far all intensive purposes, despite all the good things they've done in the past, they've treated you badly in the present, and now… you practically hate them?" He asked softly.

She started to disagree, to tell him off for his last statement. It was calculated and meant just to get under her skin, wasn't it? Something in the way he quietly surveyed her stopped her.

"Let's say you were right. What's your point?"

"The way you feel about them is based in the here and now… But if you look at the present, have I done anything to be worthy of hatred from you?"

The question brought her logic to a smashing halt. All she wanted was to know his motives, and he was asking her to formulate her thoughts of him based on his actions. Should she hate him? The old him, absolutely. This new Draco that gave her a good job, treated her politely, and even went so far as to comfort her? He didn't deserve it. She knew that. But without her grudge to hold onto, she'd be forced to see only good. _I've only been around him for a single bloody week and even clinging to how much I despise him, I'm still thinking about what it'd be like to touch him… _

Her eyes searched his for a few brief moments before she finally sighed and broke the gaze.

"No. You've been unreasonably civil… I just don't know how to treat you differently. How do I just be friends with you?"

"We put all of the shit behind us." He said resolutely. "You can start by not constantly reminding me that you hate me. That'd certainly help… and you could try confiding in me? Let me help you."

"And I suppose you'd confide in me as well?"

"Of course."

"Why are you doing all of this?" She repeated, not intending to let him get away from the question this time.

"I never wanted to be a death eater." He sighed, obviously not about to try. "I did what I had to for my own safety. It was cowardly, and I'm not proud of it. For a long time, I didn't give a rat's ass. I was only making myself think less of myself, but I wasn't hurting anyone. Back then, people looked to me for answers though. We were just kids, and while you and your lot were busy being the heroes, we were busy being threatened in our own homes. Watching our families pledge loyalty to the most vile being that's ever lived. We followed in their footsteps, but it didn't have to be that way. I hold myself personally accountable for certain things. I might not have done all the unspeakable things that my father did, but I didn't stop everyone around me from turning either. As far as they were concerned, I was a death eater long before they forced it on me. The other Slytherins thought it was the right path… I could have prevented them at least."

Watching him open up so suddenly, trusting her with information that was clearly unnerving for him… It caused her heart to speed up, her eyes to seek out the emotion he tried to keep beneath the surface. It didn't work. He was angry, she could tell. She had triumphed in her endeavors, and now she was empty. Everything she had done was exactly what she would have done a second time around if she hadn't known what her life would turn out like. She had no regrets about the number of times she put her life on the line… But he was full of regret. He'd fought a losing battle, and consistently done things he wished he could do differently, and now… He was angry with himself. It gave him conviction that was palpable in the air around him.

"I can count the things I did that didn't make me loathe myself on one hand. But I understand why I did the rest. I blame it all on them. The Death Eaters stole my childhood. They took everything that made me, and after the war ended… Well, I ran away from it for a long time. But. Eventually, I realized that no one should make you feel like you're worth nothing." He added, looking back up at her pointedly with his last statement and making her breath hitch in her throat.

"So putting them away now… It's revenge?" she whispered back.

"Only partly. It's my attempt to clear my own conscience. For all the new death eaters that may have been my doing, and for all the one's I didn't stop due to cowardice."

It was something to wrap her head around, and she wasn't sure she could right then. He really had come a long way, even if she had adamantly forced herself not to see it.

"So what about me?"

He smiled, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't lying when I said I'd be stupid not to try to obtain you for my business. At first, it was mostly that. Beyond that… Honestly, there's something insulting and offensive about you."

The female scoffed at him, smacking at him lightly. "_Insulting?" What the hell is that suppose to mean?!_

"It's not what you think." He responded quickly, shaking his head and pulling away from her attacks. "It's just that when I had to accept that _you_… _Hermione Granger, _the one who always beat me at everything… Hell, you even beat me in the war… regardless of whether I wanted my side to win. Realizing that you…" He trailed, unsure of how to continue.

But she knew what he meant. He pitied her. _Fucking fantastic. _

"So you offered me a job out of pity? That it?"

"Not even a little. I already told you why I offered you the position."

"You threw money at me out of pity though."

Draco was getting frustrated, it read on his face, and his voice was becoming more wary. "I don't _pity _anyone. Your _situation _was offensive to me because it was you. Did you ignore everything I just said? You were meant for better than whatever this hell you ended up in is. You have to realize that."

"That's just great. Exactly the Malfoy I remember, go on Draco. Put me down a little more." She seethed, turning away from him angrily. _Who the hell does he think he is?_

_What the hell do I have to say to get it through her bloody head? _He wondered, practically jumping off the couch and circling on her. She wouldn't pull that stubborn shit with him. Leaning down, he dropped his fists on either side of her legs, causing her to immediately lean back into the couch defensively, eyes widening.

"You need to open up your damn ears, and listen." He countered, tone hushed and almost menacing. "I've been nothing but nice to you, and all you can do is ask why and assume I'm trying to insult you. Well I'm not. Whatever this shit your dealing with is, it's obviously not your fault. When I tell you that you were meant for better, it's because you _deserve _better."

He had gotten within inches of her face, and was close enough now to see the flecks of gold strewn throughout her caramel eyes. Eyes that were steadily searching his own, and unhinging him by the moment. Getting this close to her had never been in his plans, and now that he was here, he was fighting the growing urge to close the distance and kiss her. Too bad he thought she'd slap him in a heart beat.

"Maybe… but…" She quickly turned her eyes from him, almost making him think the distance had gotten under her skin too. "… I did this to myself. You're right… it's pathetic. I don't know what happened…"

Her eyes were becoming glossy, and he couldn't help but think of this as a turning point, pivoting himself on one hand back into the seat beside her, but staying as close as he could make excuse for.

"I highly doubt you willed this upon yourself, Granger." He comforted, gliding a hand over her back softly.

Without any warning, her tears began to flow freely, and she let her body fall into his loosely, burying her head in his chest.

"I let it happen! I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. I feel like some sadistic and evil person!" She sniffled.

_Sadistic? Has she gone mad? _He shook his head out, not sure what she was going on about now. "Now how could _you _possibly feel that way? You saved just about everyone's life during the war…"

She picked her head up, watching him through tear soaked eyes for a few seconds. "… Sometimes, I wish that I hadn't…"

"What do you mean?"

"The war made me feel… alive… it gave me something to live for. Defeating Voldemort was all that mattered… I didn't … think… past that… and now… now everyone else is happy…. And…"

His eyes widened slightly, looking down at her. Suddenly, her bravery during the war and his cowardice made perfect sense. He had done things he was ashamed of to save his own life… She had never put any value to hers, because she was convinced she'd die by the end anyways. A striking irony, if he said so himself.

"We're a sad couple of people, you know that?"

She looked confused.

"You did everything right, I did everything wrong… and now look at us. It didn't make a bloody difference in the end."

"Aren't you happy with your life now? You've come so far… you've done so much good…"

"Ah. Yes. Constantly trying to do enough to feel like I can forgive myself. That's definitely a cause for happiness." he replied sarcastically, trying not to stop breathing normally when she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, gazing up at him and putting herself close enough that he feel her breath on his face when she spoke.

"Well.. I know it doesn't mean much, but… I forgive you. For being a royal pain in the ass. I think… I'd like to be your friend."

"Thanks, then." He smirked. "What made you change your mind?"

"I don't feel like you're judging me."

Hermione was in deep shit, and she knew it. She should have said no to going with Draco to the Manor that day, and all of her problems would be… well, less. But no. She'd gone, he'd made her doubt her grudge, which led to a free flowing river of emotional baggage. He'd been thoughtful, he'd listened… he'd opened up to her. Not to mention the way he'd pulled her against him in Diagon Alley, or let her cry on his shoulder in the most literal translation. That had made the situation worse. She shouldn't have let him touch her. Now everything had become muddled and confusing.

She knew that to him, what they'd adopted was probably just something akin to a sibling relationship, but in her head, it was nothing like that. Every little play touch was something that made her skin crawl. She found herself watching him when he wasn't looking, listening to every word that came out of his mouth as if it were law being spoken… All because he'd gone and done what her friends hadn't: Listened, and accepted. To him, the way she felt wasn't crazy. It was just the way she felt.

When it came down to it, there could have been great hopes for their newfound friendship. The problem? Pansy Bloody Parkinson. Their date was in two days, and much to Hermione's horror, they'd run into each other on not one, but _two _other occasions. Worse? Given Hermione's new 'friend' status, she got to hear all about it. That should have been great by her, given that it was her idea… And maybe it would have been. Right up until he'd gotten in her face and started talking about what she 'deserved'.

What did _she _think she deserved? She was one of the world's damn saviors. She deserved what all the other happy-go-lucky prats had gotten. _Everything. _Well. Everything that she wanted. She deserved to feel something, to be treated like she was special again. Like she was needed. Really, she just deserved to get what she want, and unfortunately… in that moment, she'd decided it was Draco Malfoy. Maybe decided was too loose a term. She'd _realized, _that it was Draco Malfoy. Maybe it had been all along after all.

But now it didn't matter. She'd gone and _insisted _that he go out with someone when she was positive he'd turn out to be just the git she expected, and now things were all messed up.

Things took a turn for the worse when one Pansy Parkinson showed up at the office the night before their date… just to 'stop in and talk to Draco for a few'. Hermione was seeing red, especially after a few conveniently placed underhanded comments about Hermione's status. Not only had she set the man she wanted up with another woman, she'd inadvertently aided in him beginning a relationship with the Devil.

_Fucking. Fantastic. _She thought, watching Pansy head towards the elevator with her prissy little model walk. _Alright then. This was my mistake… I'll just have to take care of it._

Draco had been hesitant to take the date to begin with… It couldn't be _that _hard to talk him out of attempting relationships, right? At least, not until he felt up to starting one with her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Again, Thanks for all the favorites, watches and reviews! The writing style is a little more comical in this one just because of the frustration, but I think it fits it. :) REVVVIIIEWWW! They heeelllpppp. 3333**

Narcissa Malfoy was a smart woman. She was an observant woman. For far too long, she'd attempted to force her son to understand the importance of the curse her husband had placed on the Manor they called home. It was such an easy fix when you looked at it. All Draco had to do was find a wife, and the curse was void. Everything would proceed normally… but her son refused to follow the normal pattern of life _specifically _because his father was trying to force it.

Now, all of a sudden, the unthinkable had begun to happen.

Two nights prior, she'd been on her way to the study, when she'd heard it: A woman's voice. But not just any woman's voice. If that had been the case, she would have been ecstatic. This however, was a nightmare. The woman in question, was unmistakable. From where, you may ask? It was none other than Hermione Granger… That _Potter's _best friend. Now, don't get anything wrong here… Narcissa wasn't some horrible Death Eater at heart… but she did have some class, and pure blood ideals meant a little something to her. The idea of her son having any sort of romantic involvement with a …. dare she say it… _muggle born… _it was just beyond her.

And she had every intention of getting to the bottom of it.

Which was exactly her plan as she waited patiently, reading a book in one of the lounge chairs by the Manor doors that Friday.

Not too unexpectedly, Draco arrived home a good hour late, but she didn't care.

"You'd think with your own business, you'd be able to at least get off at a reasonable hour." She said off-handedly.

He stopped, pausing before shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on a hook by the door. "And you'd think with a library, living room, and three sitting rooms, you'd have a better place to read than by the front door."

Narcissa only lowered her book, smiling slightly at her son, who crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in return.

"What is it?"

"I think you know." She responded slowly.

"Hardly."

"Alright then. It's about Miss Granger… I don't know how I feel about your newfound relationship."

Much to her surprise, he started _laughing _at her.

"_That's _what you're worried about? You should be _thanking _her. You wanted me to date, she got me to do it."

"That's not quite what I had in mind…"

He tilted his head, brows furrowing in confusion as he looked back at her.

"You didn't? I have a date with Pansy Parkinson in less than two hours… I thought you'd be thrilled."

Pansy Parkinson, did he say? …Not the Muggle Born Princess?

"So… You're _not _… dating Granger?" she questioned carefully.

His eyes narrowed, expression turning to one of disbelief. "Not that I've been informed, Mother."

"But… she was here..? I heard you two." Concern spread across her face.

"Yes. She was. We're friends now. I'd like to hope we can become good friends. We understand each other." He shook his head, walking up the steps without another word.

Narcissa on the other hand, breathed a large sigh of relief. Perhaps she _did _owe Granger a thank you. Her son dating Pansy Parkinson… that was beyond her wildest dreams. She could even deal with the horrifying thought of him befriending the mud blood if it meant him moving on… though it wouldn't be simple.

Hermione was in a tough spot. She'd finally realized that she'd practically handed over the man she wanted to another woman, and that wasn't really going to fly with her. She was prepared to pull out the big guns to fix this situation, and that had started with a good five minutes staring at the 5,000 galleon signing bonus Draco had handed over to her. Before she knew it, she'd been in more than 5 different retail dress shops, seeking out something _spectacular _for this damn date. The only question on her mind? _What would Draco like? _

That was the question. She'd already realized that while her Gryffindor bravery stayed intact, she'd traded in. The loyalty was gone, and she was playing with Slytherins now, so she'd have to adopt some Slytherin cunning to deal with this horrendous mess she'd created. Before she knew it… she was staring at a particular rack, at a particular dress… imaging herself in. Not long after that, she was in a fitting room, thinking it was perfect… annnnnnnnnnnnd thinking she might not have _enough _of that bravery.

There was a lot of hesitation, there was a _huggggee _price tag, and there was a great deal of thought involved… in the end… Hermione could only remind herself to keep her eye on the prize. If she wanted Draco Malfoy, she was going to have to fight dirty. And not feel bad about it.

Amazingly, it had only taken a few hours at home and a couple charms to make herself feel confident with her complexion, manicure, and tame her hair into pretty golden brown curls. It had even made her feel better. Kind of happy, really.

Before she knew it, it was almost time for Blaise to pick her up. Not that she gave two shits about Blaise.

Pansy Parkinson was pretty… there was no denying that… with pin-straight hair that she had bobbed and angled, and cat-like eyes which always looked as if a professional make-up artist had been there to paint on for her… She really did look like a model. She even dressed straight off a runway, as it was clear that her plain emerald dress for this particular occasion was as expensive as it could possibly be.

Draco just had an incredibly hard time paying any bloody attention to what she was saying. Sure. He told Hermione she was tolerable, he'd tell his mother that as well, but the truth of the matter was that he didn't find her plausible. She seemed fake to him. She always had. Even back in school when they were hooking up. He'd never tell her that though.

Instead, as they sat there in the restaurant, he let her blabber on, and he let his eyes roam, making up different scenarios for all the couples at all the other tables. It was fairly amusing, really. He was even effectively able to nod and pretend he was listening to Pansy, until he reached the couple nearest the door.

He'd decided that the far-too-young-woman was simply trying to cross things off her bucket list when his eyes roamed left.

For half a second, his heart stopped, rising from metallic stilettos, up perfectly shaped legs until they hit leather. He swallowed, glancing up and making eye contact, but not holding it. There had been a time before when Hermione Granger had put on a dress and surprised him, but it was nothing like this… this time, she'd played a cruel joke. He didn't even know they made dresses like the one she wore now, haltered in fashion, shaped perfectly to her body all the way down to midthigh and sculpted entirely out of deep charcoal leather.

Before he knew it, she was at the table, arm laced in that of his best friend…

He almost questioned it.

Until he realized that it was his doing. Blaise was only there for him.

_Stop… bloody… staring… _

Everyone else was already talking to each other, about what, he had no idea, he'd somehow tuned them out, and was desperately trying to tune himself back into the conversation as it went on.

" … since school?" Blaise was asking Pansy.

"I'm a model for Witch Weekly, the magazine." She flaunted back.

_That explains it. Didn't they used to date? _He wondered.

"I suppose you must be as well, eh, Hermione?"

Now he was asking Hermione. What the hell was that look on his face?

"You _must _be joking…_her?" _

Hermione was looking a bit offended, glancing towards Pansy. "Oh, I agree with you entirely. The thought is completely ludicrous. I prefer professions that require actual thought."

Draco shook his head, wondering how the hell he was missing so much.

Hermione couldn't judge Draco's reaction, and it was going to drive her crazy. He was staring, that much was certain, but she was becoming more and more self conscious by the second. She was beginning to rethink her choice of attire something fierce, and to make matters worse, Blaise Zabini had done nothing but hit on her since he had picked her up. At least _someone _thought she looked good.

Ugh.

Now. To make matters worse, she was forced to listened to Pansy's bullshit, and she really wasn't in the mood for it. She'd had enough.

"Oh, I agree with you entirely. The thought is completely ludicrous. I prefer professions that require actual thought." She said, quite spitefully, glowering at the other female, who immediately looked as if she was going to pop.

"Of course you do. Which explains exactly why you're Draco's secretary."

"She could do my job in a heartbeat if she wanted to… it just wouldn't put me in a good place."

Seemed one Draco Malfoy had decided to enter the conversation, much to everyone's surprise.

Blaise on the other hand, was busy somewhere between amused and annoyed. "Oh come on, Pans. You know you'd just _love _to be Draco's secretary. I bet you've had plenty of fucked up little fantasies in that head of yours." He shook his head, turning back to Hermione. "Ignore her, she's just jealous."

"I… am _not _jealous of _her." _Pansy seethed, staring daggers in Blaise's direction. To Hermione's relief, Draco was at least glancing towards Blaise somewhat knowingly, so she could only assume there was history between the girl and boy that she was unaware of. Great. Maybe they'd get lost.

"Well. That's lovely. Now that we've established that we're not jealous of each other, maybe we can move along. I was under the impression that we were going to have a meal." Hermione interjected, pausing for only a second. "If … that is something that you do … you know.. Indeed do."

"You know, Hermione, I think that's a lovely idea. And maybe over dinner, we can have some casual conversation. Say. How's your friend _Harry _doing nowadays?" Pansy responded almost instantaneously.

Rather unfortunately, the waiter chose this point in time to approach the table, attempted his normal friendly speech only to receive response from the two men, and glares from the two women. Conveniently, waters appeared before them, and they were left with only the task of attempting to order. Somehow… they managed it.

"So, Hermione… when did you start working for Draco?" Blaise asked, turning towards her. She glanced across the table nonchalantly, groaning inwardly when she realized that Blaise had just turned this into 'couple's time'. _Great. _

"Uh… A week or two ago.. Not long."

"I'm surprised he didn't mention it… I'm sure you're a great asset."

_Yeah. Tell me about it. Not the best sign in the world._ Another peek across the table. Bloody hag. Getting all handsy. _Alright Hermione. Think. _

"I mean… I try to be. I'm really interested in the entire company." She told him, trying her damndest to act interested in what he was saying. Blaise was handsome. He was an all around good guy. He wasn't the one Hermione wanted. So he could sod off for all she cared.

She leaned towards him a bit, grazing her arm against him. "What about you, what do you do, Mr. Zabini?" She asked, attempting her best seductive voice.

As far as she was concerned, the ploy worked, because he smiled back, leaned in a bit and nodded over at Draco. "I'm an Auror. Chief. Head up one of the offices."

_Am I supposed to be impressed? Ugh. Men. _

"He's my best." Draco's voice added lightly, startling her.

"I think you're just being nice, mate." Blaise responded, his focus suddenly shifting to a small gathering of people forming in the far corner of the room before turning back to Draco. "What do you think, are you in for one? We could leave the ladies to talk amongst themselves for a few?"

The blonde only nodded and shrugged, not needing any coaxing apparently as he stood. "You say talk, although they may be dead by the time we come back."

With no explanation at all, the two were up and moving towards the gathering, and to Hermione's dismay, Pansy didn't look shocked.

"If you knew anything about civilized company, you'd know that it's a card game."

Hermione stared at the other girl for a few seconds, shaking her head. "Play the pompous ass all you want Pansy. Doesn't change the fact that I had to tell him to ask you out."

She only seemed bothered for a moment. "Doesn't change the fact that he's not with you."

"You hate cards." Draco said bluntly as Blaise walked into the giant crowd on the opposite side of the room, moving against a banister.

"Of course I do. But we're not women. We don't run off to the loo together."

_Why the hell would we need to?_

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"You didn't tell me how great Hermione actually is… I… I'm interested in her…"

_You've got to be fucking kidding. _

"You've been around her for less than an hour, mate… are you sure you want to jump to conclusions here?" Draco could feel his heart starting to beat quicker.

"Come on, man. She's beautiful, she can handle her own. We all know she's smart. Not to mention, I think she likes me."

He obviously didn't understand. "She's a mess. She's been through a lot… plus, she's best friends with Potter… do you really want to have to deal with him?"

Blaise was looking at him funny now. "I don't think they're that good of friends now, but I think I could deal with it. She seems like she's worth it."

_Of course she's bloody worth it! You just don't get to deal with it! _This was an uncalled for situation. Blaise wasn't allowed to ask Draco to help him with Hermione. He couldn't have her. _Draco _loved Hermione. Not that he'd go admitting it to Blaise. How could he? Especially now?

"You realize that her and I have become really close friends… I'd hate for you to feel strange about that. You know. If you _did _start dating her, and-"

"Draco, I get it. I do. I wouldn't come in between your friendship. You know I'd never do that to you. She was your friend before, hopefully, my girlfriend. I can accept that."

_Shit. _

He didn't have the chance to respond to his friend, who had already turned and headed back in the direction of the table, so he could only follow. His breath hitched as they got closer, female voices floating through the air towards them.

"_Admit it. I got Draco, not you. You're jealous!"_

"_He's my _friend, _I'm not jealous of him dating you prat. I told you, I TOLD him to ask you out. My getting to come with Blaise was lucky happenstance." _

Maybe he should help Blaise… Hermione obviously liked him… There was some sort of damn 'bro-code' for this situation, wasn't there? He hadn't claimed her first. He'd gone on a date with another woman and sent Blaise with Hermione. He practically begged Blaise to ask him for help with her. He did this. So he couldn't be angry.

He sighed, settling back down in his seat, the two women none the wiser.

Hermione watched the two men sit back down silently, still glowering at Pansy across the table. She was downright sick of this bitch. How she'd gotten herself in this mess was beyond her.

"Do you want to grab lunch at some point tomorrow, Pansy?" Draco was suddenly asking, causing Hermione's eyes to nearly pop out of her head. And there was slag-queen, beaming and nodding relentlessly.

"Maybe you and Blaise could get together, Hermione? You all see to get along really well…"

She was going to loose it. She couldn't even focus. Whatever was going on was literally going to drive her mad. How could he be serious?! _HER?! HE LIKED HER?! _

And here he was… about to just pawn her off on Blaise Zabini. Ugh. What the hell could she do!? She glanced to her right where Blaise was rather intently staring at her. Oh Merlin.

"What do you say?"

"I… Uh…" One glance across the table to where Pansy was now laying her disgusting little head all over Draco's shoulder. "… Ok…?"

She was supposed to eat after all of this?


	7. Chapter 7

**I definitely changed how I felt like doing this at the last minute... But. I think it'll work out well. :) Plus, I gotta get kudo points for managing 6 uploads in 5 days! Gettin' junk dooonnneee. Woot! Not really. This is gonna be a long one. **

**Thanks again for reviews/Follows/Favorites! 3 Reviews are super helpful! Please let me know whatcha think!  
**

How Hermione had gotten herself into this situation was beyond her. She wanted to be with Draco, she knew that now, and instead... she was sitting in a bloody café with Blaise Zabini while he chattered on and on about everything in the world she couldn't care less about. It had started out with his job as an Auror... a conversation she should have cared about, but couldn't get involved in. Before she knew it, he'd moved onto their overlapping time at Hogwarts, the war, Quidditch, his favorite hobbies...

She sighed, trying to keep her nods well timed, an act that she was well rehearsed in, when a certain word triggered her attention: Draco.

"I was pretty surprised when he asked me to come along with you guys. I didn't even know you were working for him, let alone friends."

"They're both new developments." She returned, bringing herself back to the present.

"I guess that was obvious. He doesn't really spend too much time on making friends, beyond the ones he has. I can understand you though, you're quite the catch."

"He seems to have kept in contact with you over the years."

Blaise nodded in response. "I constantly wonder if that was for his own benefit or the sake of our friendship."

"Don't feel so bad, I got hired because I was good for business."

"That may be true, but you've come a good way with him. Look at Daphne. They've been in the same house all along, they were friends in school... You don't see him trying to take her anywhere with him."

Hermione's head began to spin, brows furrowing in thought. _Of course. Daphne is Daphne Greengrass. Should have put those together. _ They had been friends in school, she could remember it. Half the time, she thought he preferred her to Pansy... So why was it that he was spending time befriending her, and had only a work relationship with a prior friend?

"I don't mean to be rude, Blaise... but I'm not feeling too well... I think I'm going to go home for a bit."

To her relief, he didn't try to stop her as she stood and exited the building. She could have wished for a chance to simply get in her door, drop everything, and pass out without thinking about anything... But fate didn't appear to work out in her favor.

Her eyes immediately ran into an owl sitting on her windowsill, envelope in hand. The script was unmistakably Harry's, and that alone received a groan from the female. Now that she stopped to think about it, she had somehow managed to avoid two straight weeks of Tuesday interventions, so there was no doubt in her mind what this had to be.

_Just when I thought I was safe. _She thought, ripping the letter open haphazardly. The only thing of importance was the time she was expected, which she found relatively quick. Hermione couldn't justify giving them the time of day when it came to reading through the filler they'd tried so hard to place.

Fortunately for her, she had a few hours in which to prepare for the horrific affair. Unfortunately, she underestimated just how horrific it would be.

* * *

She felt weak. That was the best way to describe her current feelings, indecisively standing in front of Malfoy Manor's large gates, holding in tears and clenching her arms close to her body.

Hermione had caught herself wanting to see him randomly in the past week... but she hadn't hit the point of feeling like she needed him. She _needed _to talk to him now.

The lost member of the Golden Trio needed the one person who could make her feel safe.

She took a deep breath, pushing the large gate forward and approaching the house, glancing at the windows warily. The door opened suddenly before she could even reach it, an incredibly wary Draco Malfoy now staring at her in blatant concern.

* * *

**Scrutiny was an understatement for what Harry and Ginny Potter were handing to Hermione Granger. She'd sat awkwardly, stabbing at her alfredo noodles with her fork to try to ignore their eyes... but nothing did any good. They were still staring, silently. Angrily. **

**This was the last thing she had expected from them. After years of apathy when it came to her life, they had suddenly decided to take interest, and the reason why was as clear as the light of day. **

"**So. Why are you doing it?"**

"**Dare I ask what you're talking about, Harry?" She sighed. There was no reason. She knew. **

"**Why the hell are you working for Malfoy? I heard all about it. You climbed right on the bandwagon. Right where he wanted you." **

**Hermione raised her eyes to meet his, clenching her jaw softly. "You're going to criticize me for having an actual job now? Instead of scrambling around for knuts in the restaurant and temp agencies?" **

"**At least you weren't working under some sick conditions then. Do you even know what you've done? Taking a job under that bastard?"**

"**I took an opportunity that was offered to me. I don't have to worry about whether or not I can pay my bills now... And I can do something good with my time!" She couldn't tell why she was gaining the sudden urge to fight back, but for whatever reason, she felt it wasn't on her behalf. This song and dance had happened a thousand times before, and every time they had put her down in the past... her motivation to stick up for herself had been null and void. **

"**Hermione, **_**please.**_**" Ginny had finally entered the conversation, but it was clear that she wouldn't be the voice of reason. Her pleading was laced with sarcasm and disbelief, and Hermione knew that whatever followed was only going to aggravate her farther**. "**You honestly feel like you're doing something good with your time? You work for **_**Malfoy**_**. There's nothing good about him. This is just some giant scheme. Look at him! He's a Death Eater through the entire war, and then suddenly starts putting them away when the war ends? You don't see the signs!?"**

**The brunette shook her head, feeling angry tears starting to brim her eyes. **_**They don't know him... **_

"**We all went through a lot during the war, how do you know that he doesn't have actual motives for what he's doing? That legal firm has put some of the most dangerous men in the Wizarding World into Azkaban–"**

"**Except for him!" Harry shouted. They were making a scene, and it didn't seem they cared. "He's doing it to keep the spotlight off of him, Hermione, and he only wants **_**you **_**around to get to **_**me**_**!"**

**That was it... She couldn't take it anymore. It had always been the same bloody thing, and Hermione was finally starting to realize it. The war had been the exact same. It was all about Harry. Everything was about Harry. The time after the war was no different. He had his perfect little life, where he and Ginny had done everything to stay on magazine covers and attention seek. They'd put her down at every corner, told her there was something wrong with **_**her **_**for not being the same... and now... now, when she had finally come across a good job, and made a friend who listened to her, despite who that friend might be, they wanted to make **_**that **_**all about them as well. **

"**NO. YOU DO **_**NOT **_**GET TO TAKE THIS FROM ME!" She shouted, standing and slamming her palms into the table. "You've been leading me around like a sick dog on a leash for **_**years**_**, Harry Potter, and I'm sick of it. It's not my bloody fault that you all are too fucking busy to remember that I saved your asses repeatedly during that damn war! You don't get to tell me how I have to act. I **_**don't **_**have to put on a smile and be happy with you. Maybe if you'd paid any attention, Draco wouldn't have needed to... but he's **_**been there for me**_**, and you don't get to take that from me! You mean **_**nothing **_**to him, and you mean nothing to me!" She was shaking, the adrenaline making her voice quiver as she yelled, and she could already see the backlash building. **

**Ginny was stunned, staring wide-eyed up in her direction, but Harry was already standing, scowling. **

"_**Draco**_**? Don't you worry... We see exactly how it is. He has you right where he wants you. First name basis, turning on your friends... You're even defending him now? How far does it go, Hermione? Hm? What else is he using you for?"**

**She wasn't aware of her hand coming up, or the thought behind it, but the thunderous clap and motion in front of her was enough to bring her to a paralyzed halt. Within moments, everyone had recovered, but Harry Potter simply turned, glowering.**

"**We're **_**done.**_**"**

* * *

The night had gone in fairly average fashion for Draco, returning home from work late, the typical conversation with his mother about his day, a short stop in the kitchen for food, which he preferred to grab himself when he was alone, and then retiring to his personal office to finish up some casework after a relaxing shower. All in all, it had been a pretty good night. If you discounted all the thoughts floating around in his head.

_You've really done it this time, Draco._ He'd thought as he stared in the fogged mirror after showering, shaking droplets from his hair. _Just think. People assume you get _every _girl you want._

He knew that he was acting in the best interest of the girl he loved, or trying at least. _Of course, she'd be better with me. Who am I to judge though? If she wants Blaise... and Blaise wants her..._ Naturally, he'd make her happy if nothing else. The entire situation really just made him queasy. Two weeks ago, he didn't even realize he was in love with Granger, now, he was sacrificing his potential happiness for her?

_Who knows? Maybe they'll be miserable together._ He could only hope. Blaise did talk an awful damn lot.

By the time he made it to his office, his concentration was completely shot for the case. He knew what he needed to finish, but his mind could only wander to thoughts of Hermione, and where she might be. Was she with Blaise as he thought about her? _How pathetic would that be? _ A glance up at the clock only made that thought worse, as it was now 11:45 in the evening. He didn't want to think about any scenario that placed those two together this late.

He groaned, sweeping the papers in front of him away in frustration when he heard it. The familiar jingle of the Manor's wards being entered. Draco wasn't as paranoid as his father had been, but he was smart enough to know that unexpected visits were due for investigation when you lived in a house the size of theirs, and so he made his way to the window as discreetly as possible.

By his own design, the courtyard in the front of the house was no longer a dark and sinister area, but a low lit path up to the house. He'd charmed the yards for low maintenance and to keep people on the paths, where identification was simple, even if they tried to cover it, which this visitor was not. What he saw instead had him tucking his wand in the back waistband of his loose pajama bottoms and all but sprinting down the massive front staircase, pulling the door open before the knock came.

_She's been crying_... He thought, taking in the state of the brunette, and from the looks of it, she would start again at any time. There she stood, arms wrapped around her body, biting her bottom lip, and seemingly damp as if she'd been recently soaked. He couldn't help but take a look at the sky as he took a step out towards her, looking for rain, and putting a hand gingerly on her shoulder.

"I know it's late... I wasn't–" she began to whimper, avoiding eye contact with him.

" 's fine, really. Come inside." What did he care? Five minutes ago he'd been grimacing over the thought of her being with Blaise now. Not that he wanted to see her in such an emotional wreck, but she had come to _him_... That was good enough for him for now. Even better, she nodded and let him lead her directly into the Manor without any argument.

He closed the door behind them, walking a quick circle around her and surveying to make sure she wasn't hurt. "You're soaked... What happened?"

"Oh... I was... or... It was raining... earlier..."

_... That was helpful. _

"Earlier? Have you been walking around like this?"

She shook her head. "Not for long... I went for a walk... and it rained... I guess I didn't think it through very well."

"I'd say not." He could only smile, sighing and pulling one of her hands away from her body to lace against his. "But there's no point in you suffering for poor planning. Come on."

He pulled her up the staircase, and back down the hall he'd just come from, stopping outside the door pensively before turning to her.

"What?"

"I'm going to help you out, but if I ever catch you trying to stab me in my sleep, or telling any unsavory characters where this room is... I'm booting you from the friend list."

Hermione cocked her head, managing to smile faintly despite her tear-stained face. "... You'd throw me out that easily?"

Something in her tone made his teasing smirk waver slightly, taking a deep breath and sighing. "No, probably not. You must be making me soft. I guess I planned poorly when I insisted on being friends with you." He had to turn away quickly, focusing more on the task at hand, and not having her in his bedroom as he pulled her in.

Luckily, she didn't make a joke about it, probably due to her current state, but that was better for him. Rather than commenting, he headed directly for his closet, reappearing a moment later with some sweat pants, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt.

"I know it's not your choice attire, but... It's dry, and it'll make you feel better."

She was looking at him suspiciously.

"What?"

"Isn't there a spell that would work on my clothes?"

He crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow in mock offense. "Why? Too good to wear something I give you? Going to give me another speech about pity?"

"...No... I just... I thought... It'd be easier, and you wouldn't have to dirty up any of yours."

"Well, the Manor wards don't allow magic from any wands that don't belong to Mother or myself, so... good luck with that. You'll be in wet clothes all night."

"I kind of figured that... but ... I thought you'd do it?"

_Yeah right. You might be dating my best mate, but that doesn't mean I can't innocently take advantage of this situation. _

"I would, but I left my wand in my office. On the other side of the house." She didn't need to know the falsehood surrounding these statements. "It's not a problem... really. Go change. The loo is that way." He added, gesturing.

The moment she moved, he took a step back, pulling his wand from behind him and stuffing it under his mattress cleverly, dropping to sit on the bed and wait. What was he saying to himself? There wasn't going to be anything innocent about what he was doing. He might fill like shit about it later, but when it came down to it, she had come to him... and it was going to be physically impossible for him _not _to try to sabotage Blaise's stupid ass attempts while she was here. After all, Draco _had _tried to warn Blaise. He was just too dumb to listen.

Hermione stepping foot out of the bathroom door only sealed Draco's resolve, now wearing his clothes that were far too big for her.

"Admit it, you feel better."

"I do... I didn't plan on denying it." She told him, still trying to fight her sniffles.

He held a hand out for her, successfully beckoning her to come and sit next to him, though even once she'd made it this far, she still looked small and defeated, almost as if she was cowering.

"Why are you here, Hermione?" Immediately he could tell that he'd phrased the question wrong. "That's not what I meant. I know something happened... I'm wondering what it was...?"

This was obviously better for her, managing to turn her focus back over to him.

"I was with Harry and Ginny... they've been taking me out every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."

"What do you mean? I thought you didn't see them anymore?"

She sighed, and he prepared himself for an explanation.

"We didn't come out of the war the same way... they all moved on. I didn't. I guess I hadn't come to terms with how everything happened. Even if I had, I couldn't live the way they were..."

He couldn't say he blamed her. He knew exactly what she meant. His criticism of Harry Potter was the exact same since Voldemort's defeat, so he could only nod. "The spotlight..."

"Right... They seem to think that the wizarding world owes us for what we did. That they belong on some bloody pedestal, and when I wasn't happy afterwards... didn't want to do all of that... They all started to get angry with me." A tear fell from her eye as she thought about it, focus shifting around the room involuntarily. "Most of them just left me to my own devices. Apparently even being around me brought them down... but Harry and Ginny... They decided to try to rehabilitate me. I think that was it... I'm convinced it was just another big attention ploy... It never did any good. I always just went along with it but ignored them... tonight though... tonight..."

He leaned around her, trying to make eye contact with her when she stumbled. "What happened tonight?" He asked, snaking an arm around her waist lightly.

".. They just made me... so... angry..." She cried, fighting her breathing patterns as she attempted to explain. "... They couldn't... couldn't be _happy_ for me... and then they started saying things about you... and... and I know they're wrong... and ..."

Steel eyes were searching frantically, thoughts rushing through his head at a hundred miles per hour as she spoke, as she cried. Harry Potter had been on his shit list as it was, but this just made him sink farther. On top of that, it was starting to sound like Hermione was upset about her 'friends' insulting _him_, which should have been expected from the beginning... His grip on her was starting to tighten slowly, pulling her towards him as she continued her slow relentless attack on his mind.

"... Harry said..." she paused, turning to stare dead into his eyes, freezing him. "... he said you... you're only using me... to get to him...?"

There was question in her eyes, but she was shaking her head as if to doubt herself.

"I...screamed at them... and... and I..." She swallowed. "... I hit Harry..."

If his head hadn't been doing backflips yet, it was now. Hermione Granger had _struck _Harry Potter, in _defense _of _him_?

"Because of me?" He asked softly, prodding.

"He said you were using me..."

"Do _you _think I'm using you?"

Hermione gave him a pensive stare. "You listen to me... I almost feel... normal... when I'm with you... You _can't _be using me... I won't be able to take it... you're supposed to be here for me now... We're friends now...I need that to be real..."

His heart was stuck in his throat, and he was beginning to feel as if he couldn't breathe. He'd never _imagined _he'd ever see Hermione as vulnerable as she was now, let alone sitting on his bed being this bloody vulnerable. And honest. Telling _him _that _he _made her feel something... _Just tell her... What's the worst thing that could possibly happen?_

"It's not." He said quietly, looking down at her from only inches away. "... That's not real."

Her expression was undeniable, he could see her heart starting to crack as tears began to pool in her eyes.

"...I wasn't... _entirely _... honest ... with you."

"What are you talking about?"

His arm tightened gently to grip her body against his, bringing his free hand to slide up behind her neck, pulling her ever-so-softly against his lips. He had to believe coming to him had been a sign. She had to know there was chemistry...

Much to his chagrin, she pulled away with wide eyes the moment his lips touched hers, staring at him with an expression he couldn't place. He broke eye contact, standing and taking a few steps before reaching up to rub the back of his head. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done that... It was inappropriate on a hundred different levels."

He paused, feeling her hand on his loose arm and turning, slowly, embarrassment still riddling his countenance.

"I don't want you to be with _her_..." she said, so softly he could barely hear it, pain etched into her voice.

That was the end, instantly he was on her, wrapping his arms around her lower back and sliding them down to pull her up against his body, mouths meeting in an explorative battle. Her legs snaked around his waist, mirroring arms that were searching his back desperately as he stepped thoughtlessly towards the bed.

"Blaise isn't worth your time.." He muttered breathlessly, pulling away from her mouth to trail his own down her neck.

"You know... I didn't need you to tell me that..."

"...No?..."

He spun them like graceful clockwork, bringing her to her back on the sheets without ever taking his hands off of her body. The brunette only reached down, grabbing a handful of his T-shirt in both hands, pulling him against her. "Unfortunately, there aren't any successful substitutes once a girl gets you in her head." She whispered back, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his once again.

Draco chuckled, running his tongue along her lips softly as his hands slipped under the loose sweatshirt he had given her to wear, flickering up her abdomen and gently teasing when the two of them paused to a most unwelcome jingle.

"... Were those your wards?"


End file.
